


Back From The Edge

by sincewewereeighteen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Harry, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Because Harry's in the closet, Because the prompt asks for it, Blow Jobs, But it's not enough to tag as a relationship, Cara as the coolest beard ever, Falling In Love, Famous Harry, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry sleeps with other people at some point, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Famous Louis, Oral Sex, Pining, Sex, Slow Burn, So so so much love, Strangers to Friends, fake-relationship, lots of fluff - eventually, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-26 18:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 113,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9914459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincewewereeighteen/pseuds/sincewewereeighteen
Summary: “Guess my eyes are very blue.”“They are.” Harry agrees easily. “You’ve got beautiful eyes.”“You’re drunker than you think.” Louis snorts.“Why’s that?”“We’ve just met and you said I have beautiful eyes. Only people who are in love say that.” He points.“Maybe I am in love with you.”  Harry points back, feeling very smart. Yep. Maybe he is drunker than he thought.Or: the one in which Harry is a closeted actor who needs to do a PR stunt during his break, only he wasn't counting on falling for his beard's best friend. It gets messy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [byelinsonlarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/byelinsonlarry/gifts).



> Hi, there! Here's a new long fic based on this prompt: 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Therese, my dear friend, I hope I don't let you down.  
> I hope I don't let any of you down.

        When Harry Styles is five years old and his father is leaving home saying he won’t come back, there is only one thing the little boy wants: he wants to take care of his crying sister and their lonely mother. He wants to be good for them.

Gemma doesn’t cry. Gemma is the strongest, toughest girl Harry has ever met, and she helps him deal with the bullies at school every single day. No one makes Gemma feel weak.

Anne, his mom, is the most beautiful woman in the entire world. Harry always describes her as _happy_ , because she’s smiling, but not when Des leaves. When Des leaves it’s like he’s taking a part of her with him, the happy part, because Harry’s mom just sits there, smile long gone.

So when he’s five, he promises himself that he will be strong and happy for all of them. He’ll take care of them. No matter what.

 

-

 

“Wake up, knobhead; you got a meeting at eight.” Gemma smacks him on the head really hard before he even opens his eyes, which, unfortunately, is a normal occurrence. “Harry, I’m serious, up!” She complains.

“’M up”, he mumbles as he tries to actually sit in bed. “What’s the meeting about?”

“I don’t know, Simon just called it in this morning, said it’s important.” She answers. “Breakfast’s on the counter, I’ll shower while you eat, but get the fuck up.”

“Good morning to you, too.” Harry replies but his sister’s already in the bathroom.

Simon Jones is the head of Harry’s PR team, and although the man is a complete jackass, he does keep Harry in the media, even if it’s with the worst kind of press possible.

All it took was one test. One test at the right time, for the right people, and teenage Harry got a small part on a low-budget version of Gossip Girl on British TV years ago.

Now, at the age of twenty-two, Harry Styles is the single most well paid actor in the United Kingdom, having conquered America three and a half years ago when he played the role of a teenage heartthrob’s nerd brother in a romcom called _The Reason_.

If only he’d gotten the _nerd_ stigma, he would’ve been okay with it, but, somehow, Hollywood took a different turn. Instead of keeping the cool and collected personality of his character _Marcel_ , Harry started being called _the hottest thing of the moment_ – thing, not person – by every magazine and gossip website across the globe.

He was barely eighteen when he started filming for this movie and not even nineteen when it came out. Harry remembers celebrating his nineteenth birthday at a Brit Awards after party because he was, apparently, already important enough to be invited to those.

It isn’t like Harry is not grateful for everything he has. He _is_. God, Harry loves so many aspects of his life. He loves being able to provide for his family, he loves his fans, he loves his small flat that is equipped with everything he’s always wanted and never thought he’d have money to buy…

Harry _is_ very grateful for the things he possesses. It’s just that, along the way, while worrying about auditions for major roles and shooting different campaigns, getting more money than he could count and sending it back home, he forgot to take care of himself.

Teenagers argue that they can fend for themselves, but it’s a lie. Harry knows it’s a lie because he’s been there, done that, and got the scars to prove. Which is why now, that he finally got a break from his hectic Californian schedule, he decided to come back home.

Gemma is a blessing. Sure, she can be a pain in his ass, but having her living with him for these past few days makes him remember that she isn’t just his agent, but also his _sister_ , part of his _family_ , the only person besides their mother who really knows him.

As you can see, Harry doesn’t have many people, even though he’s always surrounded by them.

“Harry, you haven’t touched your food.” Gemma sighs coming ready from the bathroom.

“’M not really hungry.” He replies, going for the fridge to find his Detox juice there. Harry remains healthy because he loves it; for him, it’s not just some actor crazy diet. “Did Simon say what he wanted?”

“Not really. Think he wants to discuss what you’ll be doing during your break.” She answers.

“Uh- nothing, I hope. Isn’t that the point?”

This is Harry’s first vacation since he _started_ in the industry. He thinks he deserves doing absolutely nothing after working nonstop for four years.

Gemma doesn’t answer this time.

“I gotta get to the office, you’re _not_ my only client, little brother.” She says instead. “Let’s go, I’ll give you a ride.”

Harry gets up and follows her suit, still too sleepy. It’s Tuesday, and he just wanted to stay in bed late for _once_. Clearly, this is not what is happening here.

The drive to his management’s company is mostly silent, the only noise coming from BBC Radio 1. Harry quickly makes a mental note to call Nick Grimshaw while in town, but he doesn’t know if the radio host will want to speak to him – _old wounds_ , he supposes. That was what Nick said last time anyways.

Harry hooked up with him two years ago, when his second movie came out and so did he – in the industry, that is. And he hadn’t even _meant_ to do so, he was just drunk and Nick was funny and the actor said _“I might come out tonight, but not really”_. They wound up hooking up for the months that followed, and it was good until it wasn’t.

_That’s just the way things are_ , Harry had told himself, but he knew back then and he knows now that it’s… Not. That’s the way things are for famous newbie actors who can’t come out without sinking their careers; that’s the way things happen when said actors get involved with older, out of the closet men: they learn that, for some things, they aren’t enough.

Staying hidden was never going to be enough for Nick, and Harry doesn’t blame him. He really doesn’t. But he misses him anyways.

“Hey, what’s gotten into your head?” Gemma asks.

“Nothing. Just- thinking about stuff.” He tells her.

“Don’t think too much, your head can’t take it.”

“Very funny.” Harry shows her his tongue. “Thanks for driving me, Gems.” He leans over the console to kiss her cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He gets out of the car and into the building, smiling to everyone on the way, because the rest of the world is not at fault for his terrible mood this morning.

Conference rooms are conference rooms all across the world. Harry’s already had more meetings in them than he can count, visited more executive buildings than he would’ve liked, but there’s still something about this one, specifically, that makes him cringe.

The only person Harry likes that works with him is Niall. But Niall is nothing but an assistant, and while him and Michael – who is his publicist – try to do their best to keep Harry _happy_ , at the end of the day they also need to follow Simon’s directions. He’s the manager, after all.

He’s also the one who starts this meeting.

“Nice of you to join us, Harry.” Simon says as soon as Harry sits on his chair: far down the table, in the corner. It’s been this way since he was seventeen and started working with them.

“I’m on time, aren’t I?” The actor replies.

“You are, mate.” Niall answers.

“So, why am I here and not sleeping through my break?” Harry asks.

“Because if you sleep through your break, chances are you won’t come out of it.” Michael answers. “You need to keep yourself in the media, mate, it’s been two months since you announced on twitter you were going off radar.”

“Yep. ‘Cause that’s the point.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t.” Simon says, not apologetically at all. “And this time a couple of fake articles about you won’t do, since they already _know_ you’re a womanizer…” He snorts.

Harry never told anyone how much it _hurts_ to be called that. How utterly humiliating and disrespectful it is towards himself _and_ women.

“… So, we decided to go another direction.”

“What, now?” The actor asks tiredly.

“Simon thinks that you’re already old enough to get into a real relationship.” Michael answers. “Well, a fake-real relationship anyways.”

“ _What?_ ” Harry asks again.

“We are going to give you a beard, Harry.” Simon Jones explains. “It’s all settled, we’re just communicating to let you know. She’s a model, because we couldn’t break your patterns _that_ much, and she is British, so you won’t have to leave the UK apart from the occasional romantic visits you’ll pay her in Paris when she’s there for work.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just lets him keep talking.

As far as everyone is concerned now, Harry Styles is dating Cara Delevingne. His team explains to him that they didn’t choose her because she needs the publicity, she clearly doesn’t, but because of all the models, she was the one who fit the profile they were looking for the best: blond, skinny, and established. Harry honestly doesn’t know which disgusts him the most, but suddenly he is very happy he didn’t eat anything this morning, otherwise he would’ve thrown up by now.

Michael tells him how this is all going to go down.

Cara’s throwing a party on the weekend and he’ll be invited, because “she’s always had a celebrity crush on him, and this was the perfect excuse to meet” – is what the articles will say; everyone thinks “they would make the cutest couple ever” – according to every gossip website. Also, “the two of them had an instant connection, and Harry didn’t want to let go of her, so he asked her out on a date”, E! channel will provide this exclusive.

It’s all planned out. He’s handed a sheet of paper with the locations they are bound to be together publicly: airport pap walks, walk of shame pap walks; Starbucks pap walks; dinner dates, fashion shows… Harry looks at how his life’s going to be during this break and suddenly he wants to _beg_ Gemma to find him a new script. However, he knows it wouldn’t work. Not now.

Once he leaves the office, assuring them he “got everything”, Harry’s ready to find the nearest cavern available and just hide in there until he’s cried out. But Niall doesn’t let him.

“Hey, Harry.” The Irish guy calls him, so Harry holds the lift for him to enter. “Have you eaten anything? You look a bit pale.”

“No. And I’m glad I didn’t otherwise you’d have witnessed me puke.” He says the truth. There’s a lump in his throat that doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

Niall doesn’t laugh, instead, the man offers him a comforting smile.

“Let’s grab something to eat together then, please? ‘M also starving.” He asks. “Please, Harry. Can’t let you go home like that, mate.”

“You’re driving, Gemma gave me a ride here.” Harry says.

“No problem.” Niall says, and Harry follows him into the parking lot.

Harry wishes he’d met Niall at a difference circumstance. He think they could’ve been mates.

“You know…” The Irishman says when they’re in the car. “I asked Simon to assign me to you through this whole thing.”

“How so?”

“He doesn’t need an assistant, but you will.” He shrugs. “I’ll keep you updated on your schedule, wake you up and drag you out of places when necessary, if that’s okay.”

“That’s all right. Thank you, Niall.” Harry smiles kindly, feeling like he can breathe for the first time today. “This is all too—fucked up. I know it’s what I signed up for, but fuck it if it’s not terrible at times.”

“You signed up for being an actor, Harry, not for this.”

“If I were straight this wouldn’t be happening.” Harry lets out without noticing, and Niall is kind enough to ignore until they reach their destination.

Somehow Niall manages to find a quiet diner during breakfast time in London, and Harry is so, so thankful. They seat on a corner booth, away from the windows, and place their orders without trouble. The waitress recognizes Harry but doesn’t ask for a picture, and later he’ll find out that it’s because of Niall. Whenever he’s with the man, people generally won’t bother him (unless they’re fans), because Niall will make sure of it.

The fry-up is _really_ good. It isn’t better than his mother’s or Harry’s own, but it’s definitely one of the best he’s ever had. He’s commenting about it when Niall interrupts him.

“You’re wrong, you know?” Niall says.

“You won’t be saying that after I cook you a proper breakfast…” Harry jokes.

“No, Harry”, he laughs, “you’re wrong about what you said earlier. Even if you _were_ straight, this would still be happening. This industry has more fake relationships than fake boobs, and I can tell you from personal experience that it’s got _lots_ of fake boobs.” Niall says. Harry even chuckles. “It sure _is_ worse because you don’t get to enjoy who you are, since you have to be what everyone expects you to. And for that I’m sorry. The world likes to think it’s so evolved, but—there’s still such a long way to go.”

“You’re telling me.” Harry sighs.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you can’t be out and proud just yet. But think of it—the beard thing, as a ritual of passage, yeah? You’re not a proper Hollywood actor until you’ve taken part in a PR stunt.”

“One, I’m not a Hollywood actor, I’m a _British_ actor. Two, were Kendall and Taylor not enough of stunts for everyone?”

“One, you know what I meant. Two, they worked for the moment. You _need_ this, as much as _I_ hate it.” Niall explains. “Cara is super funny, I think you’ll genuinely like her. I did the vetting, Harry. There were plenty of blond, skinny, established models to go with. I just picked the one who’d be easier on you.”

Once again, Harry feels gratefulness for having this person on his team. _Something had to be good_ , he thinks.

“Thank you.” He says. “Really, Niall… I—thanks.”

“That’s quite all right, movie star.” He jokes. “I promise you it won’t be too bad, yeah?”

“We’ll see.” Harry answers and keeps eating. His day has barely begun.

 

-

 

Saturday comes faster than Harry wished for. In the past few days he worked out, binge-watched shows on Netflix and complained to Gemma, and somehow they all flew by. Now here he is, getting ready to go meet his new girlfriend.

Harry’s first idea was to act like a dick so Cara would simply bail on the contract, but he’s a good person by default, so he can’t really do that, now can he? He dresses his best and even spends more than two minutes on his hair, and when it’s finally time for the party, he sits on his couch texting back and forth with his mom, waiting for Niall to pick him up.

He hasn’t told Anne – his mother – about this new stunt; not yet. He also asked Gemma not to do it. He knows shit will hit the fan pretty soon, but he still hasn’t had the heart to tell her that he, once again, will lie to the world about the most important thing – who he is – and go against everything she’s ever taught him.

At first, Anne was ecstatic, just so, so happy for Harry’s true passion actually _becoming reality_. Harry couldn’t have asked for a more supportive family. Even his father, with whom he kept a somewhat stable relationship over the years, texted him every now and then to congratulate him, ask how he was doing.

(Unlike his mom, Des doesn’t know about anything that is going on with Harry; not really. They keep it very superficial, since Harry isn’t comfortable enough to share everything with him.)

But now Anne just worries, the entire time. She says this industry is sucking Harry’s life away, that he’s not really himself again, and this is not something he agrees with _completely_. He knows he’s changed, but he also knows that part of it is just growing up. Unfortunately, everyone has to go through this eventually.

The part that he agrees with though… That’s the part in which she says he’s only happy half of the time, that if he’s not in front of the cameras, his smile isn’t as bright… That lying to everyone is making him bitter. Sometimes, late at night, he cries over her words, because they’re spot on. She’s his _mom_ , how would they _not_ be?

And no matter how much she and Gemma state how _proud_ they still are of him, how they think he is very strong for doing everything he does, Harry can’t help but think that he’s failing the education his mother struggled so hard to give him after she was left alone to handle two kids.

So no, he hasn’t told his mother about his next stunt, because he’s ashamed. And if he hasn’t looked in the mirror as often as a normal person does, then it’s because he can’t really bear to look at his own face knowing what he is about to do.

Niall texts him he’s already waiting and Harry jumps from the couch a bit startled, running towards the lift and taking a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. He needs to make the best of it if he’s going to survive, so, _positive thinking, let’s go with positive thinking_ , he tells himself.

 

-

 

Cara is the one who opens the door, and the first thing she says is:

“HELLO, NEW BOYFRIEND!” _Loud_ is the first thing he notices. Her tone is loud. And she’s a bit tipsy already.

Also, she’s gorgeous. He knew that, but the images don’t do her justice. She’s the girl who would totally be his type if Harry _were_ interested in women. Like that, he only appreciates her beauty as he appreciates women in general, and smiles kindly accepting her hug.

“Hello, new girlfriend.” Harry says over her shoulder. “You’ve got quite a party going on.” He comments as she enters and gestures for him and Niall to follow.

“I’m just glad you could join us.” She smiles. “Hi, I’m Cara.” The girl says, stopping in the living room.

“Harry.” He laughs. “And this is Niall, my personal assistant… I suppose.” He shrugs.

“God, I hope you’re better than mine.” She breathes out and rolls her eyes, and Niall smiles brightly.

“I promise you I am.” He shakes her hand.

“Great, then.” Cara smiles and turns around. “My home is your home, and everyone else’s, since this is only my public home and  I don’t live here…” She tells them and laughs. Yep. Definitely tipsy. “Honestly, though… There’s food and drinks around, and we are supposed to take a snapchat at some point.”

“And I’ll take a picture of you talking and send it _anonymously_ to a website.” Niall fake-whispers. “Now, you both go get a bit drunk and we’ll reunite in an hour. Go team!” He claps and walks out, going towards the nearest _beer station_.

“Ok, he’s _definitely_ better than my assistant.” She laughs.

“He seems to be a good one.”  Harry agrees. “So, uh—how did you end up accepting this and why?”

Cara shrugs.

“I have my own reasons, I guess.” She says. “We can talk about it more later, just—let’s have fun, yeah? We’re supposed to hit it off.” Cara jokes.

“I guess we will”, he smiles kindly at her and thanks the heavens that she isn’t one of those models who let their careers get to their heads.

Harry follows Cara like a puppy most of the party. Niall takes their picture at some point and it’s actually a good one; then _The Killers_ comes on the stereo and they dance animatedly, after all, _Mr. Brightside_ is an anthem, Harry thinks. Cara films them both and sends it from her personal snapchat, so, now they’re free.

It’s almost four hours into the party and one hour and a half of constant drinking when Harry starts to feel a bit tired and in need of _water_. The model tells him to just go to the kitchen and he’ll find some there, and Harry thanks her immensely.

Upon getting to the kitchen, Harry finds peace. That’s the only way he can describe it. There’s no one here, and he feels very compelled to just… Stay, if only for a little while. Niall said they should be going soon, but Harry passed by him and the Irishman seemed very entertained with one of Cara’s model friends, so Harry thinks he’ll just wait here and wind down – him and his bottle of mineral water.

He sits on the floor – because he can’t be bothered to find a chair – and rests his back against the island in the middle of the kitchen. Harry stretches his legs until they reach the sink counter and feels calm, safe.

Then someone trips on him.

“Shit, mate, ‘m sorry.” Comes a voice from above.

Now, if Harry were _drunker_ than he currently is, he’d think that it really _did_ come from _above,_ as in heaven, because the boy who said it looks like a freaking angel. He’s got caramel hair and the bluest eyes Harry has ever seen, even in this weird yellow light.

The guy in question is wearing jeans as tight as Harry’s own, just as black, and his shirt shows off his collarbones in a way that makes Harry want to sink his teeth there and leave a mark that will take ages to disappear. He’s just _so_ pretty. 

He’s got a thin mouth, and red lips; cheekbones to die for. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone with cheekbones such as his. This boy, man? is, _definitely_ , one of the most beautiful people Harry has ever encountered, and Harry works in an industry in which people are gorgeous to make a living.

Seeing him, even from this angle, is disconcerting, to say the least.

“That’s quite all right”, Harry answers with a bit of a delay. “I’m in the middle of the way after all.”

“Looks like you’re having a tough time.” Prettiest boy answers. “You all right?”

“Yeah, just resting… My assis- uhn, friend—my friend’s getting drunk somewhere, and I’m ready to go, but I decided to wait for him.” Harry chooses to lie.

“You’re a good friend.”

The actor just smiles stupidly at him.

“Mind if I sit?”

“No, course not.” He answers. “Are _you_ alright?”

“Yeah, just needed- space. Cara’s parties tend to get too loud.”

“I noticed.”

They’re silent for a moment, and Harry justifies to himself _why_ he chose to lie. There is just something about anonymity that “regular” people take for granted; there’s something about meeting a cute boy at a party and talking to him without it being a huge problem. There’s something really appealing about being able to just _be yourself_ with a stranger.

Tonight Harry doesn’t want to be careful, and maybe that’s the vodka talking, but he just wants to flirt; and if this prettiest than pretty human being flirts back, then so be it.

“I’m Louis.” Blue eyes offers him a name. _Blouis_. “What?” He frowns. _Oh shit_ , Harry hadn’t realized he said that out loud.

“A terrible joke about your name and the color of your eyes.” Harry explains then.      

“Oh”, he arches an eyebrow. “Guess my eyes _are_ very blue.”

“They are.” Harry agrees easily. “You’ve got beautiful eyes.”

“You’re drunker than you think.” Louis snorts.

“Why’s that?”

“We’ve just met and you said I have beautiful eyes. Only people who are in love say that.” He points.

“Maybe _I am_ in love with you.”  Harry points back, feeling very smart. Yep. Maybe he is drunker than he thought. So what?

“I am very lovable.” Louis ponders.

“Will you just agree with everything that I say?”

“Is it a bad thing?”

“Don’t answer my questions with questions.”

“Why not?”

Harry huffs out a frustrated sound, and Louis laughs, getting closer and aligning his legs with Harry’s, their thighs touching.

“You only said things that are agreeable, Curly.” Louis says, voice a bit lower. “My eyes are blue and I _am_ lovable, or so my mom says.” He shrugs. “But people don’t fall in love at first sight, that doesn’t exist.”

“Okay, you got me there.” Harry sighs. “I don’t think it exists either.” A breath. “But it’s a nice concept, isn’t it? To just look at someone and… Like, _know_?”

“Maybe. But—isn’t it beautiful to, like, build something, too? I mean, it’s great to have, like, _connection_ at first sight. But love’s something that comes with time.” Louis looks at him, actually interested in the conversation. “And I think that few things are as mesmerizing as looking at a couple and knowing that they went through a lot of things together to be where they are…”

Life is weird. Life is _so fucking weird_ if you ask Harry.

Never would he have thought that he’d be sat on Cara Delevingne’s kitchen on a Saturday night discussing _love_ with a half-stranger (Harry knows his name now). Yet here he is, admittedly inebriated, but still fully capable of communicating with an enticing human being, who not only didn’t say “oh shit, you’re Harry Styles”, but who actually is engaging in conversation with him.

Harry feels happy. And he’s been talking to Louis for five minutes.

“You’re right.” Harry responds, once again, a bit too late. Louis doesn’t seem to mind. “But what about family? Aren’t we designed to love our families no matter what? Aren’t we born loving them?”

“Course not!” Louis exclaims. “You don’t love someone because they have the same blood as yours. You love them because they take care of you since the day you’re born… They feed you and bathe you and teach you things… And when they don’t, once you grow up you realize you want nothing to do with them. No one loves anyone by default.”

“My dad left my family when I was five. But I think I still love him.” Harry confesses. “So your theory’s a bit wrong, isn’t it? How do I love someone that basically abandoned me, my mom and my sister?”

He never, not _ever_ talks about his father. Harry doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. Fuck.

“I don’t think so. You lived with him for five years.” Louis states.

“I have _not lived_ with him for seventeen years.”

“Oh, but here’s the interesting thing about my theory…” Louis gets closer, as if he’s about to tell Harry a huge secret. “Once you start loving someone, you just keep loving them… No matter how much it destroys you.” He pauses, and then looks at Harry again.

“When you really _love_ someone you just don’t stop, ever. Even when people roll their eyes and call you crazy; even then, e _specially_ then. You just- you don’t give up… Cause if you could just give up, if you could, like, take the whole world’s advice and—and simply let it _go_ , that wouldn’t be _love_. That would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for…”

“… And that’s not what love is.” Harry completes, somehow feeling a lot sober now.

“That’s not what love is.” This incredible boy replies. “He’s your _dad_ , and he was your dad for five years. You loved him for who he was during those years, and you still do. And that’s quite all right. Maybe someday you can salvage what’s left of your relationship.” Louis offers him a kind smile.

_Kindness_. That’s so rare, nowadays. The concept is rather simple, but really… It’s been a long time since Harry was on the receiving side of it.

“Thanks for saying that.” Harry looks down. “You seem like a great person, Louis.”

“Nothing to thank me for. And- thank you.” He smiles sheepishly. “You’re quite all right yourself. Not all hair and legs.”

“Hair and legs?” The actor chuckles.

“First and second things I noticed about you.” Louis explains. “Gorgeous hair, mile-long legs.”

“I noticed your eyes.”

“I figured.” _Right_. Harry said his eyes were beautiful.      

“So, Louis… Are you in the modeling industry?” Only now Harry’s realized he has no idea of what Louis does or what he is doing at this party. But then again, he didn’t tell the boy about himself either.

“No.” He laughs loudly. “But I am very flattered that you think I have the looks for it.”

“You do.” Harry can’t help but drop his eyes to Louis’ lips. It’s only for a second, but Louis notices it.

“I’m a sports journalist, Harry.” Louis says in one breath, and Harry’s fairytale ends right here.

Because _of course_ Louis is a journalist. It doesn’t matter that he’s a _sports_ journalist. All it matters is that he’s a freaking _journalist_. And also—

“You know who I am.” Harry’s eyes widen. He moves away from Louis, just a few inches. He is _literally_ taken aback.

“Does anyone _not_ know who you are?” Louis asks with a smile.

“Fuck, I’m so dumb.” The actor closes his eyes, shuts them strongly. Then he sighs.

Harry opens his eyes when Louis touches his forearm.

“You’re not dumb.”

“I am. Just tell me to which newspaper you’re gonna sell this story tomorrow so I can prepare my team.” He pleads.

Now _Louis_ scoots away from him.

“What makes you think I’ll do that?”

“You’re a _journalist_ , Louis. You’re either gonna turn this into _gay actor Harry Styles flirted with me at Cara’s party_ or _poor Harry opens his heart about his daddy issues_. If you’re real smart you’ll combine both.”

“What kind of _person_ do you think I am?” Louis asks him baffled. “Harry, did you _really_ think I didn’t know who you were when I stumbled on you here?”

“You didn’t say anything.” Harry mumbles.

Louis laughs.

“Okay, you’re a bit dumb.” He agrees, but scoots closer again. Harry can’t believe they’ve been sliding their butts on Cara’s kitchen floor in the middle of the night, while a wild party is happening in the other room. “But hey—Harry, it’s okay. I won’t sell your story, ever, okay? It’s not mine to tell.”

“You’re not very good at your job if you let this story slide.” Harry responds, still not meeting Louis’ eyes.

“Cara Delevingne was the weirdest kid.” Louis starts. “At school, she didn’t really talk to anyone, and no one talked to her. She was too skinny, had too much eyebrow, and didn’t care about her appearance at all. She wanted to hang out with the boys, but six year old boys don’t really want to hang out with girls. I know I didn’t. But mom made me anyways, since we lived on the same street. Mom would give little Cara a ride every day through our school years. Sometimes Cara’s mom would, too, point is: we were forced to hang out, and, inevitably, became friends, because we’re both awesome.”

Louis almost pulls a smile from Harry, but Harry manages to refrain.

“I was there when she got her first period, when she kissed her first boy, when she went from really weird to proper _fit_. I was there when she became who she is. I know every aspect of Cara’s life. I’ve been there through it all. Just like she’s been there for me: for when all my siblings were born, when I had my first time with a girl only to realize I liked boys, for when I drove my first car... Cara is my best friend, Harry. Maybe I should’ve started our conversation with that.”

“You know every aspect of Cara’s life.” Harry says. “You know—”

“That she’ll be your beard for the next few months? Yeah. I talked her into it; she was pretty reluctant at first.”

“I… Why?” Harry frowns. He doesn’t understand.

“I guess I failed to say I’m also a huge fan of yours. As an actor, sure, but as a person in general… I’ve always really liked you.” Louis explains. Harry looks at him now. He looks _genuine_. “I’m sorry you’re having to do this, if you’re anything like you acted the last few minutes then I’m sure you don’t want to be lying.”

“I don’t.” He says too quickly.

“I thought so.” Louis smiles. “So I thought, you know… Cara taking it would be at least a little easier on you, because she’s a really nice girl.”

“We haven’t had much chance to talk tonight. But I did like her.” Harry smiles.

“She’s my best friend.” Louis shrugs and takes a deep breath at the same time. “She’s bright and she’s gorgeous, and so are you. So… You’ll both look stunning together, and maybe build a strong friendship in the process.”

“I… Don’t know what to say.” He really doesn’t. “Thanks, I guess.”

“That’s really fine. I should’ve told you everything from the beginning, I just…”

“You just…”

“I thought you would’ve acted differently if I… If I’d said _holy shit, you’re Harry Styles_ ”, Louis chuckles. “And I just really wanted to have a conversation with, you know, _you_. Guess I was a bit dumb too. And selfish.”

“I would have acted differently.” Harry agrees. It’s Louis’ turn to look down. “But I’m really glad I didn’t.”

A small smile appears on Louis’ face, and he seems like he wants to say something else, but Cara walks in.

“MY FAKE BOYFRIEND AND MY REAL BEST FRIEND HAVE MET.” She announces loudly.

“Someone is _wasted_.” Louis says getting up, giving Cara a fond smile. “You all right, love?”

“Perfect, Lou. Just need water.” She smiles.

“I’ll get you some.” Harry says and opens the fridge, getting her a bottle. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Cara then looks at Louis. “Is he approved?” She asks her friend.

“He’s gonna make a great fake boyfriend, I think.” Louis answers seriously.

“We’re gonna make this fun, Harry, I promise.” Cara says. “But first I’ll take a nap. I think I need to lie down.” She says more to herself than to the boys.

“That’s fine”, Harry chuckles. “I’ll find Niall and get going, yeah? Thanks for the party, Cara. It was really nice.”

“Nooo need to thank me. Thank our managements. This party’s on them.” She laughs loudly one more time. Harry can’t help but shudder at the volume of it.

“I’ll take her home.” Louis says and circles his arm around his friend’s waist. “To her, uh- real flat.”

“Sure, I’ll… Find Niall, then. Like I said I. Hm. Woud.”

“Okay.” The journalist agrees. “It was really nice meeting _you_ , Harry.”

“It was nice meeting you too.” Harry replies truthfully. “I guess I’ll see you then?” He asks.

“Yes. Yes, you will.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strong Gryles vibes in this chapter, and the beginning of a very jealous Louis.  
> Don't kill me.

 

            The next morning, it’s everywhere.

            Harry’s still nursing his hangover drinking a detox juice when the first texts pops up on his screen.

            **_The articles are a success, mate_. ** Niall sent him two minutes ago, and there’s a link attached. Harry snorts in his kitchen when he sees the article, because this is not what a success is to him.

            Going online is always a terrible idea for a famous person, and Harry’s learned his lesson the first time he did that after his first movie came out. Still, there are times in which he can’t help it, not when a lot of “someones” are writing about his love-life for the whole world to see.

            Right now, Harry’s fan base is divided in three groups: the ones who are calling this another _stunt_ , since “he’s clearly not interested in women”; the ones who are already “shipping” him with Cara, and the ones who find this absolutely outrageous because _“what about Kendall? Did you even remember they are friends?”_.

            Now, Kendall Jenner is a right laugh. Harry likes her as a friend and they’ve hung out more than once, very publicly, he might add, but it’s never been more than that. Her team has denied more than once that she and Harry are _not_ a couple, _never have been_ , but it doesn’t matter, because the media and some people still seem to think that if an attractive male goes out with an attractive female, it means they are _doing it_. _How archaic_ , Harry thinks.

            Anyways, him and Cara. They’re going to be an item in a week, and everything’s already in motion.

            Harry grabs his phone and calls his mom, already regretting the conversation they’re about to have. He just hopes he can get in touch with her before she checks the internet.

 

            _“So, let me get this straight, you really agreed to this?”_ Anne asks for the hundredth time.

            “Yes, mom.” He whines.

_“Why?”_

            “Because I’m on a break, and people need to keep talking about me, apparently.” Harry explains. “I’m sorry.” He says in a smaller voice.

            _“No, baby, I am sorry. I’m sorry this is the one thing I can’t protect you from.”_

Harry’s speechless for a while there. He was very sure his mom was going to give him a lecture about how he should fight this, how he’s simply playing their game and turning into a different person. But no. Anne’s voice for the first time in forever, Harry thinks, comes charged with pity. She sounds regretful. Harry doesn’t know what to make of it, but he thanks her for the support anyways.

            His mother makes him promise that he won’t be taking Cara home.

            _“You’ll only bring someone here when it’s real, okay?”_

“Kay, mom. I’ll try to visit next week, all right?” He asks, already wanting to end this conversation.

            “Okay, baby. Be safe.”

            “Always am. Love you, mom.”

            “Love you, H.”

 

            _Real._ Finding someone and being real with them is something that Harry avoids thinking about, otherwise he’s just setting himself up for disappointment. Harry’s never really had _real_ in his life, not when it comes to romantic relationships. (Unless watching his sister’s love life counts as something. He doesn’t think it does.)

            And despite what everyone says and thinks: Harry Styles is a romantic. He isn’t just the guy who takes part in romcoms, he’s also the one who watches them religiously, cries with a bowl of popcorn in his lap and imagines whether things will ever be remotely as good to him as they are in the movies and TV shows he binge watches.

 

-

 

            Gemma arrives late on Monday night just to let him know she’ll be traveling to LA the next day and needs the keys. Whenever she’s there, she stays at Harry’s place in the hills because “it’s much more relaxing”.

            “D’you remember the code?” He asks her while they’re having dinner.

            “Yeah, you’re not a genius, it’s your first cat’s name, how could I forget?”

            “I miss Mindy…” He muses.

            “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay here alone?” Gemma questions him with those piercing eyes of hers.

            “I will.”

            “You should call your friends. I’m sure everyone misses you, you know?”

            “Who’s everyone, Gems?”

            “Nick, Lou, Sam… It’s been over a year since you hung out with them.”

            “Because Nick doesn’t want to see me.” Harry rolls his eyes.

            “That’s not true. They all miss you.” Gemma pushes. “Plus, I don’t know if you know, but your new girlfriend and Nick are friends.”

            “I haven’t really had time to talk to her.” Harry shrugs.

            “You will, soon, I’m sure.” His sister replies. “Anyways…” She sighs and gets up. “I’ll leave the dishes to you. Please drive me to the airport in the morning?”

            “Sure.” He smiles. “Hey, see if you can find me any good scripts that start filming next year?”

            “Of course, little bro.” Gemma walks around the table and kisses his head. “See you in the morning.”

 

-

 

            After dropping Gemma off at the airport, Harry heads back home and, surprisingly, finds Niall waiting for him in the lobby, saying that the doorman didn’t let him go up to wait in front of his flat door. _It’d be creepy, sir_ , Harry’s doorman apologizes and he just laughs, telling him it’s all right.

            He rides the lift with Niall and doesn’t ask him what he’s doing here, he’s pretty sure they’re going to discuss his schedule for next week. He can’t say he’s looking forward to it.

 

            “Tea?” Harry moves to the kitchen.

            “Please.” Niall nods. “I thought I’d stop by to let you know a few things about your schedule for this month.

            “Okay…”

            “First of all, your social media is now run by me, lucky you; only thing I did was follow Cara, because Mike wanted to send her a tweet.”

            “Do I get to tweet my own words?” _That’s an improvement._

            “As long as I approve them.” Niall shrugs. “I won’t be half as bad as Mike was, I promise.”

            “I didn’t even use my social media with Michael running it, so thank you, I guess.” The actor tells him and hands him a mug.

            “Thanks, mate. And you’re welcome.” Niall laughs. “Uh, so, you and Cara are bound to go on a coffee date on Friday and then to a party on Saturday night. It’s an industry party, so you’ll be all right, lots of people you know are going to be there.”

            “Hmhm…”

            “During the week you’ll hang out in private just so she’ll send a snapchat doing something fun with you. It’ll be _unintentional_.” Niall says the last word with air quotes.

            “Kay.”

            “Then on the weekend you’ll have a sleepover.”

            “Already? Can’t we wait, like, a month into this relationship to let people know I’m sleeping with her?” Harry frowns.

            “What, are you saving yourself for marriage?” The Irishman snorts. “You won’t actually sleep with her. You don’t even have to sleep at her place; just—be photographed getting in and out.”

            Harry rolls his eyes.

            “Next month you’ll attend a fashion show with her…” Niall finishes reading from his iPad. “And that’s it for now. We’re going to schedule some _Harry Styles’_ appearances in which _she_ will be accompanying _you_. We want to give the public the whole _supportive partners’_ vibe.”

            “This would be awesome if it were real. Picking someone who’s supportive is important.” Harry mentions conceited.

            “I agree.” Niall responds. “We’re going to arrange the paps and the café, then we’ll send you and Cara the address, you just have to go and look pretty.”

            “I always look pretty.” Harry tries to joke.

            “Oh, those movie stars…” His assistant muses. “Look, Harry, I gotta ask, are you seeing anyone? Like, for real?”

            “No.”

            “Okay, because if you do, if you- you know, we all have, uh, necessities.”

            “Niall.”

            “If you want to have sex, go to a gay club or whatever just _please_ let me know so we can do this right? Don’t be reckless or anything?”

            “I wouldn’t dream of going to gay clubs, I know what my contract says. And there isn’t anyone whom I want to sleep with right now. But thanks for the concern.” He chuckles.

            “You could, if you wanted to. I’d go with you and tell them you’re being my wingman.”

            “Are you gay?” Harry asks. He was certain Niall was straight.      

            “No.” Oh. “But no one needs to know that, yeah?” He winks.

            “I’m starting to think it’ll be a real pleasure having you as my personal assistant, Niall Horan.” The actor smirks.

            “Just don’t make me do your laundry and go grocery shopping for you and we’re good.”

            “I like doing both by myself when I have time, so you’re off the hook.”

            Niall sighs relieved and they both laugh.

 

-

           

            Harry is starting to hate this a bit less, but Friday comes and with it the paps and the yelling and the whole _have you fucked her yet, Styles?_ screams coming from the vultures. Harry’s always tried treating them better than they probably deserve. He tries to keep in mind that they have a family, that this is just a job for them, how they make a living – but it gets pretty fucking hard with each year that passes.

            He just never has a day off, is the thing. He can never go out and not worry about someone watching; he can never turn the TV on without fearing the next “scandal” will be about him; he can’t live a normal life since he chose this abnormal job.

            And he’s thought about quitting. Boy, has he thought about quitting! But this is what he was born to do, he figures. Acting has always come naturally to him, and every time he gets to live in someone else’s skin he feels powerful; connecting with his characters is his favorite thing nowadays, and even with its down side, he could never really give his up. If he could, he would have after the first time his mom told him _no_.

           

            “Harry, hi.” Cara says as soon as he enters the café and raises her hand.

            There’s a huge glass window, and this is where she’s sat, right for the cameras to see. Well, but of course.

            “Hey.” He walks faster towards where she is, ignoring the looks he’s getting from the people who are probably recognizing him. “Am I too late?”

            “Nope, got here early… My management thinks that it’ll look good if they write you were _late_ but, I quote, _apologized profusely, and didn’t want to screw up your chance with me_.” She laughs. “My God, I’m sorry.”

            “That’s all right.” Harry tries to smile.

            “So, did you enjoy the party? I was pretty drunk, we didn’t even talk properly. Sorry ‘bout that.”

            “No problem. I did, yeah. It was good.

            “Was the best part of it, by any chance, to sit on my kitchen floor with a certain Louis Tomlinson?” She squints her eyes and smiles a bit.

            Harry does his best not to blush.

            “Maybe.”

            If he’s being honest, he hasn’t really thought about Louis over the past week. No, scratch that, he hasn’t _allowed_ himself to think about Louis, and here’s why: Harry actually liked him.

            Sure, he was drunk, they both were, but talking to Louis in the middle of the night on Cara’s kitchen floor was the most honest moment Harry had in quite some time, probably ever, and it felt… It felt good.

            Harry is not someone who is emotionally stunted, no. He’s always in touch with his emotions, he has to be, if he wants to be a good actor – which he does and is. Still, there are some things that he only admits when he’s in a _character_. There are things that Harry can only draw emotion from, but not… Not _feel_ as himself. With Louis, somehow, in less than an hour, he kind of did. And as amazing as that was, it was also scary.

            Therefore, Harry hasn’t thought much about that night, but now Cara is mentioning it, so it’s best if he keeps this thing between them as honest as possible. He truly wants to, at least, make friends with her.

            “Louis is a proper fan of yours, always has been. Annoying.” She rolls her eyes.

            “He told me.” Harry says. “Sure, he waited for me to pour my guts out about things I shouldn’t have to a stranger, but… He told me.”

            Cara laughs loudly.

            “That sounds like Lou.” She smiles. “Honestly, I’m sorry. He’s my best friend, he knows everything… Which he probably told you too.” The model says and Harry nods. “Yeah, so, he’s always around. I hope you don’t resent him or anything, because you’ll see each other a lot.”

            “Doesn’t he, like, work?” Harry frowns. “Thought he said he was a sports’ journalist.”

            “He is. But he writes columns and just sends them via email… He’s always traveling with me.” She smiles. “We grew up together and… You know how this world is. We need someone familiar, someone who knew us before this all…” She waves her hands around. “Otherwise we go crazy. I’m sure you have someone like that in your life.”

            “My sister.” Harry agrees.

            “Yeah. He’s my brother”, she shrugs. “I mean, I have two sisters, but Louis is more my family than the two of them could ever be. He’s… Grounded, you know? He always scolds me when I need it the most.”

            “He’s your Gemma. I get it.” Cara frowns. “My sister, Gemma’s her name.” The actor supplies.

            “Oh, yeah, yeah…”

            “He seems like a nice lad.”

            “He is the best, Harry.” She smiles. “When he had his gay freak out I told him that it was okay, and to prove it I kissed a girl.” The model laughs. “Little did I know, I had my own gay freak out right after.”

            “Wait- whoa, wait a sec, you’re _gay_ too?” Harry scream-whispers.

            “Your team didn’t tell you that?” She laughs.

            “No.” He laughs too. This is priceless. “Oh God!”

            “I was about to come out, and then this opportunity came along. I resented this decision for two weeks, but then Lou told me that I knew what it was like to have to lie to everybody in the beginning of my career, and if you had to go through the same thing it should be with someone who was actually nice, and someone who would understand you and not judge you. And here we are.”

            Louis _told_ Harry about being the one who convinced Cara to do this, he just didn’t say _how_ he did it. If Harry feels a bit moved, then no one needs to know about it. At least not right now.

            “I guess I owe Louis a drink and a huge thank you then.” He smiles.

            “Think I’m gonna bring him in our outing tomorrow, if you don’t mind. You should bring your handler, he seemed funny.”

            “Niall’s my PA.”

            “He’s your _handler_ , trust me.” Cara snorts. “So, Harry Styles, tell me more about the Hollywood life style I clearly know _nothing_ about.”

            “Of course…” He laughs.

            “Tell me your point of view then.”

 

            They spent three hours at the café, and Harry barely feels the time pass by. He thanks whatever gods may be up there looking down on him because he _likes_ Cara. She’s fun, she’s down to earth and she gets his sense of humor.

            “I’m happy that you’re not a dick you know…?” Cara says when they’re getting up after splitting the bill.

 _We’re both filthy rich, I won’t let you pay for me and contribute to the patriarchy_ , she said.

            “Ha, thanks.”

            “Pick us up tomorrow, then?” She confirms. Harry said he’d stop by her place and drive her and Louis to the club.

            “Yeah, be there round eleven?”

            “You can come round nine? And we can get drunk before the party?” She suggests.

            “A beard after my own heart.” Harry puts a hand on his chest, closes his eyes and smiles.

            Cara hugs him.

            “They’re having a field day here.” She says with her head in his neck.

            “I know this is supposed to be beneficial to the both of us, but… Thank you for doing this.” He tightens his arms around her.

            “Welcome, Harry.”

 

-

 

            He is not nervous to see Louis. Not at all. It’s not like he poured his heart to the other boy when he was drunk, not like he told Louis he might be in love with him and they discussed love, not like Harry told him about his father. Nope. Harry is not nervous.

            He calls Niall and tells him that he’s going to Cara’s place earlier, and his assistant… Handler? says that he loves Harry for making his job even easier than it already is. Harry rolls his eyes and tells him to meet them at the club, tonight he intends to have some real fun.       

            If he’s doing this, he’s going to make the best of it.

 

            When Harry rings the bell of Cara’s actual flat, he checks himself through his cellphone frontal camera, something that he never ever does, while he waits for her to open the door. But it’s not her. Of course it’s not her. Louis is there, standing inside, with the most beautiful smile, dressed like hell, looking like heaven.

            You see, Harry has a theory: nothing can be _completely_ perfect and smooth in life. The situation he’s in right now is a perfect example. Cara is awesome, they get along pretty well, but she comes with a price. And the price is Louis Tomlinson, right here, being absolutely gorgeous, and infinitely out of his reach.

            “Harry, hi, come in!” Louis says and opens the door wider. “Cara’s still getting ready.”

            “Hi, Louis.” He doesn’t really look at him when he speaks, but he can feel his cheeks blushing. “That’s okay.”

            “You know models…” Louis jokes.

            “I CAN HEAR YOU, AND YOU ONLY GOT READY EARLIER THAN I DID BECAUSE HARRY WAS COMING NOW SHUT UP.” Comes a girl voice.

            Harry laughs, and Louis… Louis blushes.

            “Don’t mind her?”

            “I won’t… If you get me alcohol as I was promised.” Harry lets him off the hook easily.

            “Alcohol it is then.”

            Harry asked his driver to take them to the party, so he doesn’t have to worry about a thing tonight. Except, well, he does. He has to worry about acting lovingly towards the model, to dance with her and smile in her snapchats.

            He needs to worry about keeping it together around Louis, about not confessing that he thinks the other boy is _really_ fit. He needs to worry about remembering that for whatever this is worth, it’s all fake.

 

            Cara takes less than thirty minutes to finish getting ready, and in the meantime, he and Louis have two drinks. But they’re not silent, awkward two drinks. They’re drinks filled with ongoing conversation, bashful smiles and stolen glances.

            Louis is just—so captivating.

            Harry hangs to his every word without even noticing it. He did it the day they met and he’s doing it now. Why? He doesn’t actually know. He just knows that Louis talks, and he himself only nods, not really trusting his voice.

            You see, Harry Styles is flirty. It’s just who he is. He likes to speak in a low voice and smirk every now and then; it makes him feel good, confident, free. Not that he is any of those things… On most days he’s just whiny, self-conscious and… Caged. It’s not how he’s built up, it’s just what this world does to a person, what it did to him.

            But when he’s flirting… When he’s flirting he feels carefree, somehow. And when he’s flirting with _Louis_ , well, it’s a whole new level of freedom.

            Louis gets it, is the thing. Maybe because he’s been through it all by his best friend’s side, maybe because he’s, somehow, inserted in this world, being a journalist and all, but whenever Harry looks at him, Louis looks back understandingly. It’s the _second_ time they’re talking, and still, Louis’ eyes say one thing: _I get it, I’ve got you, don’t worry_.

            It’s not scary, which makes it terrifying.

 

            Harry’s glad when Cara finally shows up. Her presence here reminds him of what this is all about. They drink a few more shots, and when they’re all pleasantly buzzed, they make their way outside, where Harry’s driver’s waiting for them.

            “It’s gonna be a fun night, okay?” Cara half affirms, half asks.

            “I’m hoping so”, he grins.

            “Isn’t Steve playing tonight?” Louis asks and his best friend nods. “So yeah, it’ll be an awesome night.”

            “Who’s Steve?” Harry frowns.

            “Steve Aoki? The DJ?” The model answers.

            “Oh. _Oh_. I really like him.” He remembers. “I mean, his stuff. Don’t think I’ve ever met him, though.”

            “We can introduce you to him tonight”, Louis says.

            “Of course _you_ know him.” Harry chuckles.

            “We met in Vegas last year.” He supplies.

            “And Louis is a celebrity whisperer, I swear to God. Everyone loves him.” Cara tells Harry. “D’you know Liam Payne, the footie player?”

            _Does Harry_ know _Liam Payne? Harry had the biggest crush on him._ He simply nods.

            “He’s my mate. And Cara’s jealous because I’m so much better at making friends than her.” Louis rolls his eyes.

            “The only reason I keep you around is because your social skills are way better than mine, haven’t you noticed that yet?” She jokes.

            “But _why_ does everyone love you?” The actor frowns, “you’re not that impressive, Lewis.”

            “It’s funny that you think you’re a good liar, _Harold_.” Louis teases. “And you call yourself an actor… Honestly.” He snorts and so does Cara. Harry doesn’t respond, just lets the model take control of the conversation again.

 

-

 

            Upon entering the club, the actor can see what Cara meant about Louis being a “celebrity whisperer” or whatever. Everyone knows Louis. Seriously. Everyone knows Cara, too, but they lighten up when they see she brought him. Louis smiles and walks around like he belongs, and isn’t that weird? Because Harry feels exactly the opposite, even though a private club in a very rich part of London is, supposedly, _his_ crowd.

            There are some people Harry’s already encountered in life – award ceremonies, fundraising events, this very same place and so on, and he mingles as much as he can, never leaving Cara’s side, losing sight of Louis within ten minutes.

 

            “There’s a booth reserved for us upstairs, but I actually feel like dancing. What d’you say, boyfriend?” She asks.

            “Lead the way, _girlfriend_.” Harry says placing a hand on her waist and following Cara to the dancefloor.

            Steve Aoki isn’t on yet, he’s only coming after one in the morning, because he’s playing at a festival somewhere else in town, but this DJ is good enough that they dance four songs in a row, only stopping when Niall finally arrives and spots them, inviting them for a drink at the bar.

            (Harry is still trying to make up his mind about Niall. He doesn’t dislike him; he actually finds him very amusing; he just doesn’t know if he can, or how to _trust_ him. This is normal, for him. He doesn’t trust anyone who isn’t his mom or sister.)

 

-

           

            The model is having a blast. She’s smiling at everyone who comes around and when Louis finally finds them again and screams _AOKI IS HERE_ , she throws her arms in the air and downs another shot, pulling Harry by the hand and walking towards the DJ booth, Niall and Louis in tow.

            “Steeeeeeve”, she calls walking around the equipment.

            “Hey, girl.” He smiles and bends down to hug her. “Lou said you were here, and with company.”

            “Yes, yes!” The model answers. “This is Harry Styles and our friend Niall.”

            Steve’s eyes widen, but just for a second.

            “So nice to meet ya, mate, I’m a huge fan.” He stretches out his hand and Harry grabs it to shake.

            “ _Thank you_ ”, Harry answers genuinely, “likewise.”

            Steve greets Niall too and they try to make small conversation, but it’s too loud for anything to be understood. A song is coming to an end, and the DJ needs to pay attention to what he’s doing, so he turns to Louis and asks:

            “Wanna play?”

            “Scoot over, Stevie.” Louis slurs in his already drunken state and Aoki laughs, doing so and making space for Louis behind the equipment as well.

            “Celebrity whisperer.” Cara points and turns around. “ _TO THE DANCE FLOOR!”_

They dance, _a lot_ , and Harry gets more plastered as the night goes on. He finds out that when he’s sweating and moving his head, getting dizzier and dizzier on the dance floor, his problems don’t seem too big. He doesn’t think about _this_ being a PR stunt, he doesn’t think about how fucked up his life is most of the time, he doesn’t think about the hole he feels in his chest more often than not.

            Harry dances his sorrows away, and isn’t bothered one bit when he notices that someone is filming him. There’s _always_ someone filming him, whether he’s shooting a movie or not. He’s no stranger to cameras, especially not cellphone-supposedly-sneaky ones. So he turns around and dances to _Boneless_ , a very popular Aoki (and someone else, he’s sure) song.        

            When he finally sits on their private booth, Niall off to somewhere and Cara in the loo, Louis finds him and slides by his side, a pint in hand and a smile on his face.

            “Having fun?”

            “Too much, ‘m exhausted.” Harry answers. “It’s been forever since I danced like this.” He says truthfully, remembering how stiff and just _forced_ he was a week and something ago at Cara’s party.

            “Ha, that’s good.” Louis comments. “Hey, remember when Cara told you in the car that all celebrities love me?”

            “Hmmhmm…”

            “This just in: there’s _one_ British celebrity that absolutely hates me, and he’s somehow coming our direction.”

            And that’s when Harry looks away from Louis, just to see Nick Grimshaw coming towards their booth.

            “He’s not coming here for you.” The actor has time to say before Nick’s screaming _FANCY SEEING YOU HERE, YOUNG HAROLD_.

            Louis frowns, Harry gets up, and Nick hugs him. _It’s been so long_ , he says over Harry’s shoulder. And yes, it has.

            Harry’s missed him.

            “Hey.” He tightens his arms around his _friend_. “Had no idea you’d be here tonight.”

            “Me neither, but Fifi heard Aoki was playing here and made us change clubs.” He laughs.

            “Fifi is here?” Harry’s eyes widen. “I miss her!”

            “She’s around.” Nick looks at the crowd. “Didn’t know you knew Tomlinson…” He then turns his attention back to the booth, looking unimpressed. For the first time tonight, Louis isn’t smiling; he’s not shining, either. He’s just sitting there, pale and completely uninterested in what’s going on.

            “We met through Cara.” Harry explains.

            “Oh, I heard something about it… You and Cara.” The Radio 1 presenter offers. If he’s disappointed, he’s hiding it well, because Harry can’t tell. “Louis.” He nods.

            “Nicholas.” Louis replies, then drinks a bit more. “To what do we owe the displeasure of having you here?”

            “Could ask you the same.”

            Nick sits down and so does Harry. Harry likes them both. He can’t believe they dislike each other. Just his luck.

            “’M with Cara.”

            “Of course you are.” He rolls his eyes. “Please tell me you’re not fucking him, that’d be a downgrade from me, Styles.”

            “Manners, Nick.” Harry rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not fucking him.”

            “You slept with _Nick_?” The journalist asks.

            “We dated. Then Nick dumped me.” The actor smirks. “But we’re over it, aren’t we?” He looks at Nick, more hopeful than he’s willing to admit.

            For the first time, Nick softens.

            “I’m here talking to you, aren’t I?”

            “Good. I’ve missed you.” Harry offers. “And, you know, my friends. Your friends.”

            “We all missed you too. Let’s all hang out this week, yeah? Come by the station?”

            “Yes.” Harry grins.

            “Think I’m gonna be sick.” Louis knocks his head on the table.

            “Don’t be bitter, Lou-eh.”

            “Suck my dick, Grimshaw.” He gets up and rolls his eyes.

            “YOU WISH.” Nick screams after him, but Harry’s fairly sure the journalist doesn’t hear it, because the music’s too loud. “He wants you.” Grimshaw tells Harry.

            “Nah, he doesn’t.” The actor deflects.

            “You want him too!” He accuses.

            “Shut up.” Harry warns him and grabs his drink. “I’m just horny and lonely. It’s not _him_ that I want. Just someone.” This is _still_ true, at least sexually speaking.

            Nick sighs by his side, and then places a hand on Harry’s thigh.

            “We’re not going to be exclusive, I won’t be your dirty secret, I’m over it. We’re _friends_ , and I’ll fuck you so you can release some tension, but I _won’t_ get emotionally involved with you again. Understood?” He says in his ear. Harry’s _already_ getting hard, so he simply nods, feeling Nick squeeze his thigh.

 

            When they’re ready to go, Harry warns Niall that he’ll be papped with Cara leaving the club, but it’s to Nick’s place he’ll be heading for. Niall doesn’t give an opinion, just tells him to lay low and not anyone know where he is. In the car, when they finally stop in front of Nick’s building, Harry leaves Cara with a kiss on her cheek and simply waves at Louis, pretending he doesn’t see the disappointment disguised as anger on his face.

           

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your lovely feedback so far, please don't stop.  
> We had a carnival holiday this week, which is why I updated this fast, but I think it'll take me more than a week to post the next one, because my schedule's been hectic. ANYWAYS, don't worry, it won't take forever.
> 
> All the love as always,  
> M.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOUIS TOMLINSON DESERVES BETTER.  
> Ok, now I'm fine, I needed to scream that.
> 
>  
> 
> If you've read any of my stories before, you know I like to play with POV's. So here's a little bit of Louis for you. (With a little bit of Harry.)

            Louis Tomlinson has one important rule: to not get too involved with people he can’t have. He’s good at it, following rules, he means. Since he was very young, living in a house full of people, his mother taught him to walk in line, keep his emotions in check, and follow the rules.

            When he was little, his mom _dictated_ the rules; nowadays he sets them for himself. And, like he said, he’s good at sticking to them, and he doesn’t intend to simply bypass one or two because of a certain Harry Styles. Even if said Harry Styles makes it very difficult.

            You see, Louis has _always_ pined after the actor. At first, it was just a fan crush, someone hot, someone Louis lusted after as the very gay man he is. But then he met him. He met him, and he talked to him, and he saw how _handsome_ he was up-close. How beautiful he is on the inside.

            But things are tricky. Things are so, so tricky. Harry’s in the closet, as in _doesn’t know when he’s going to come out_ closet. As in _using Louis’ best friend as his beard_ closet. As in _so out of reach it’s funny_ closet.

            Now, Louis _could_ fuck him. He could’ve done it the first night if he wanted to. But it’s not that simple, right? It can’t be. Not when they’re so good at talking, too. Not when Louis knows he’ll want more, because he _deserves_ more.

            Who cares that they flirted when they first met? Who cares that Harry was easy for him? Certainly not Louis. Which is why he makes a decision to be fine with it all: seeing him constantly is fine, hanging out with him when he’s with Cara is fine, being _friends_ is _fine_. He won’t complain.

 

            “Mate, are you in there?” Liam asks throwing a kale on him.

            Liam is Manchester United’s top scorer and he’s always on some kind of crazy diet. Louis met him about three years ago, when the team hired him and Cara was “dating” one of the players. They hated each other at first, but they hated Cara’s “boyfriend” more, so they found a common ground, and took it from there.

            Now Liam’s always around, and when Louis isn’t traveling with Cara or visiting his family, he’s following the football player around – Louis is, after all, a _sports_ journalist.

            “Yeah yeah… What were you saying?” He looks at Liam.

            “Chelsea is selling two players at once, we don’t know who, but rumor has it it’ll be big money for the club.”

            “That’s actually interesting…” Louis types it down on his iPad, to dig further when he feels like working. “You’re actually _worth_ of something, Liam Payne, who would’ve thought?”

            “Uh- Man U supporters? Also, I find you lots of exclusives?” Liam jokes, throwing another kale at him. Louis eats it. _Argh,_ he hates health food.

            “Because I _deserve it_ ”, he smiles.

            “Not sure if being a twat most of the time characterizes it as _deserving_ , but sure, let’s go with it.” His friend laughs, and Louis is about to reply when Cara texts him:

**_Harry’s coming to the house to hang out and be papped getting in and out. Wanna come? Xx_ **

Louis sighs.

            “What is it?”

            “Cara’s asking me to go to her rent house to hang out with her and the new boyfriend.” Louis explains.

            Liam doesn’t _know_ , but he _knows_ anyways. They never said it, per se, but he figured it out over the past two weeks, and neither Louis nor Cara made an effort to cover it up. Liam is family, too.

            “We should go.” Liam says. “I mean, can I go?”

            “Don’t see why not.” Louis shrugs. “It’s better if you do anyways.”

            “Ohhhh, Loueeeh has a crush on Harry Styles!” The footballer gets up just to squeeze his cheeks and piss him off. “Snap out of it, mate.”

            “I _am_ out of it.” He rolls his eyes.

            “Sure.” Liam laughs.

                       

            They arrive at Cara’s before the paps do, which makes Louis think that Harry isn’t there yet. And that’s better, this way he can prepare himself to see him again. It isn’t _difficult_ , he’s not—he doesn’t get _sad_ or anything like it. It’s just a slight discomfort. Something he can’t really explain, not yet at least.

 

-

 

            Harry is _not_ used to it. He says he is, but he isn’t, okay? How can one get used to being yelled at getting out of a car and having flashes coming from every direction just _walking on the street_?

            He parks in front of Cara’s mansion and walks all the way to her front door so everyone can get a picture of him. He’s only following instructions, after all. He tries to remain calm; he thinks of Gemma and mom, and he makes himself believe that this is all worth it.

            One thing Harry admires about the model he’s working with – “dating” – is that she stood up to their managements and said her flat was off limits. She simply rented this huge house and said “hey, this is where I live”. Harry wishes he had thought the same, because next week she’s scheduled for a sleepover at _his_ place, and it’ll be hell to stay there once everyone finds out where he lives.

            Anyways, here Harry is. Cara opens the door with a contained smile on her face, one that says she is happy to see him, but she is sorry he’s having to go through it. She’s had this smile for the past two weeks, and it’s only the beginning.

            “Hi, Harry.” The model says and hugs him.

            Cara’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top and looks nothing like a Victoria’s Secret angel at the moment.

            “Hey, all right?”

            “I’m good. Louis and Liam just got here.”

            “Oh, hey, _hi_ ”, the actor says entering the house, finding them gathered in the living room.

            “Hi, mate.” Louis smiles but doesn’t get up from where he’s lying on the couch, different from Liam, who stands and walks towards him.

            “Liam Payne, nice to meet ya, big fan.” He stretches his hand and Harry takes it.

            Everyone who meets Harry these days says the same thing: _big fan_. And he likes it, but after a while it feels like people are saying it out of politeness. He doesn’t dwell in it, though; he is, after all, a _big fan_ of Liam’s.

            “Could say the same”, Harry chuckles. “Thanks for keeping my team at the top.”

            “My pleasure, mate.” Liam smiles and goes back to the couch.

            Harry sits opposite of them and Cara takes the armchair. Apparently, they weren’t talking about anything important, just helping Liam decide where he is going to spend the Easter holidays, because he wants to do something special for his family.

            Cara suggests Greece, Harry suggests Dubai, and Louis tells him to stay home.

            “Easter’s about being together, not- like, going places.” He shrugs. “You wanna do something special for your family, be there with them. You miss them, they miss you. Just being together will be enough, won’t it?”

            “Yeah, but we rarely get to go on holidays. We used to travel all the time when I was a kid.”

            “You’re not a kid anymore, Li.” Louis ponders. “Plus, I know for a fact your mom’s dying to cook for you.”

            “And you know that how exactly…?” The footballer squints his eyes.

            “We might be facebook friends and talk sometimes.”

            “Course.” He rolls his eyes.

            “Speaking of moms, when’s yours coming to visit us, Lou? I miss Jay.” Cara asks.

            “She was supposed to come this weekend, but the twins got sick because of the weather, so it was cancelled. Think I’m gonna visit them next weekend, when you’re at Harry’s.”

            “You’ve got twin siblings?” Is all Harry registers to ask.

            “Two sets of twins, plus two sisters.” He smiles proudly.

            “But- that’s… like-”

            “Six siblings, yeah. Five girls, one boy.”

            “Louis loves all of them to death.” Cara interjects.

            “I do.” The journalist agrees easily. “The smaller twins got sick, Doris and Ernest. They’re only three.”

            “Oh my God! Babies. I love babies.”

            “You would.” Louis snorts. “But they’re not babies anymore, they are, like, _talking_. That’s crazy.”

            “You complained when they didn’t talk.” Liam points.

            “Yeah, but the fact that they are talking right now is disturbing, because time’s passing _way_ too fast…” He complains and everyone laughs.

            Louis keeps talking about his siblings and telling a story about when the older set of twins were born – Daisy and Phoebe, Harry thinks are their names; it’s very hard to keep up as he talks. Still, the actor does his best to pay attention, and he holds onto Louis’ every word, becoming more endeared by the second with everything he says.

            He learns a lot about him right now, but the information he gathers isn’t in Louis’ words, but on how he says them. He’s adoring when mentioning his mom, proud when he mentions Charlotte – the oldest after him –, and absolutely loving when he talks about Fizzy, the teenager.

            And when talking about kids… Jesus, Louis simply lights up. He seems to love kids so much, and that makes Harry like him even more. It’s something about the way he smiles when he looks at Harry right after telling another story that gets to him, and he asks Cara where the toilet is because he needs some space. He needs to _breathe._

-

 

            Harry gets back to the living room and Liam’s getting ready to leave, but Louis and Cara have settled on a movie and tell Harry they’re gonna head to the TV room, since it’s more comfortable. They say goodbye to Liam and wish him good-luck to dodge the paps as he leaves through the backdoor.

            Nick sent Harry a text message a while ago, and Harry only notices it when he takes his phone out of his pocket to lie on the humongous futon Cara has in her TV room.

            He ends up in the middle of her and Louis, but he doesn’t really mind. As soon as the movie is on and the lights are out, Harry decides to pay attention to the screen and nothing else, but then fifteen minutes later Louis is giggling and Harry _needs_ to look over and see what he’s laughing at, since it’s a sad movie they’re watching.

            “What?” He whispers.

            “Cara is asleep.” Louis answers and Harry turns on his side, to look at him. Louis is _so_ soft and so… Close. “I can’t remember the last time she stayed awake for a movie.” Harry can see the colors from the TV playing on his face and every now and then illuminating his eyes. They’re still beautiful, and Harry isn’t drunk this time.

            “I—it’s not a good movie, to be honest, is it?” Harry asks and laughs lowly.

            “No, pretty underwhelming if you ask me.” Louis agrees and looks at the TV. “I’m actually a bit hungry, ‘s a bit late, I haven’t eaten since breakfast… At midday.”

            It’s not late, it’s six something pm, and Harry usually eats much later than this, used to the American lifestyle by now, but: Louis is hungry.

            “Is there food here?” He asks. “I could cook something.”

            “You can cook?”

            “Yep.”

            “I think they stocked the house…” The blue-eyed man says, sitting up.

            “Let’s make something to eat then.” Harry agrees and gets up.

           

            It’s a bad idea, cooking with Louis. For one, the journalist is absolutely _helpless_ in the kitchen. Also: the fact that he is absolutely helpless but still tries to help endears Harry in a way he can’t quite complain. He smiles stupidly looking at Louis, more than once, and Louis, eventually, asks him what’s gotten into him.

            “You’re cute.” Harry shrugs, saying easily. “Like, all the time.”

            Harry thinks Louis will fight him. Louis is the kind of person who says _I am not cute, I’m manly_. But Louis doesn’t. Instead, Louis walks closer, aligns his eyes with Harry’s and asks:

            “Is this just flirting, Harry?” He looks more curious than anything else. “Cause I don’t mind flirting, I like flirting. But is this just flirting?”

            And what the hell is Harry supposed to answer? _No, it isn’t, I would actually like to kiss you and have sex with you and maybe ask you out on a date even though I can’t because I’m in the closet and also publicly dating your best friend?_ Nah, he can’t say that.

            “Course.” Comes out weakly, but Louis steps back. “I like flirting too, and I’m a flirty person. Is that okay?”

            “Only because you’re cooking for me.” The journalist decides and raises an eyebrow.

            “And when I’m _not_ cooking for you?” Harry asks. He needs it to be okay then too.

            Louis ponders for two seconds too long.

            “Hm… I guess it’s all right, too, I mean, you _are_ very nice to look at, so it won’t hurt.” He jokes.

            _It won’t hurt_. Ha. They’re both in for a treat believing this.

 

-

 

            The first time Cara Delevigne enters Harry’s flat E! news talks about it. It’s almost one month since they started this stunt, and by now the whole world is convinced that they are _the_ couple of the moment, and all eyes are turned to them. She goes there with him after they attend a charity dinner party together, and they play scrabble till they’re very sleepy, going to different rooms and calling it a day.

            Gemma calls the next morning to see how her brother is doing, promising she’ll be back in a couple of weeks, and he swears he is okay. He’s just… Empty, but that’s no news, now is it?

 

            “Did you find me anything over there, Gems?” He asks her, changing topics.

 _“I did, but you’re not gonna like it.”_ She replies.

            “Why not?”

            _“It’s a romance, a very beautiful one, actually, but- they’re casting Scarlett Johansson as leading actress, and she’s like- ten years older than you.”_

“And you think they’d make it look like I’m dating an older woman?”

            _“I don’t know for how long your thing with Cara will last, but they could even make it as though you were cheating on her with bloody Scarlett Johansson.”_ Gemma voices a bit angry.

            “But they’ll do it anyways no matter which role I get, right?” Harry sighs. “Email me the script, I’ll take a look.”

            _“All right.”_ She agrees. _“You sure you’re okay, Harry? Is Niall taking care of you?”_

            “Niall’s okay. Way better than dealing with everyone else directly. I promise I’m fine. It isn’t even that bad, really.”

            _“Kay, I trust you. Call mom, she misses you. You said you’d visit and you didn’t go…”_

“Yeah, I know.”

            The weekend he was supposed to do that, he spent cooking for Louis at his beard’s rented mansion. But he doesn’t mention that.

            “I’ll head home this week, I think. There’s nothing to do here anyways.”

            They wrap up the conversation only a minute after this, his sister promising to email the script until later today.

 

            Harry wasn’t lying when he said there was nothing to do around here these days. And he’d be fine with it, if his mind weren’t constantly going to the fact that he is in a PR stunt, that if he tries going online he’ll only see confused fans asking him about where this relationship coming from and rags feeding off his image. As it is, he decides that spending a few days away from London is the best he can do.

            Cara agrees with him. When she comes out of her room, he is cooking breakfast and she thanks him immensely for it. When Harry tells her about his plans, she simply smiles and says _I think it’s awesome_.

            “Also, uh- I have this show coming, next month in Paris.” She tells him.

            “Niall told me, I’m going.” He says easily.

            “Oh. Kay. Louis will be there.”

            Harry wants to say _I didn’t ask_ , but it would be _so_ rude he scolds himself for even thinking that. Cara seems to notice his face, though, so she speaks up.

            “It seems like it’s easier for you when he’s there, is all.” She offers.

            “He’s a nice guy.”

            “He is the best, Harry.” The model says with a huge smile on his face. “Be careful with him.”

            “There’s nothing to be careful about”, he chuckles, “we’re just friends. Like you and I.”

            “Yeah, but you’re flirty friends.” She winks.

            “That’s just how I am with everybody.”

            “Okay. We’ll review the topic in a month or so.”

            “You’re insufferable and also wrong”, he throws a piece of toast at her. “But okay.”

            “ _Hotshot actor Harry Styles is attacking me with toast, someone call the authorities!”_ She scream-whispers, eyes filling with water.

            “You’re a great actress, did you know that?” He laughs.

            “Idiot.”

            “Seriously. You were wasted in _Paper Towns_ and _Suicide Squad_ ”, Harry mentions, “but you should audition for something else. You’re really good.”

            “Hey, Suicide Squad got an Oscar for make-up!”

            “Great make-up, indeed. They sure as hell made us believe the movie would actually be good when we watched the teaser, splendid cover-up.” Harry jokes and the model slaps him on the arm.

            Then Cara sighs.

            “I feel like—” she starts, “I feel like everyone expects this from me just so they’ll call me _talentless actress that made her way up by being a model_. I mean, that’s a major cliché, isn’t it?”

            “Yeah, but who cares if they’re wrong and you’re doing what you want? Assuming you want to act again.”

            “I do.”

            “So.” He presses. The model shrugs again. “I’m also a major cliché, you know? _Gay actor, closeted by his management who becomes a “womanizer” and dates models so no one will find out_ …” Harry chuckles.

            “Maybe. I’ll talk to my agent.” She sighs.

            “My sister’s in LA. I’ll text her, ask her to let me know if there’s anything you’d be interested.”

            “You really don’t have to.”

            “You’re doing me a favor. Let me do this one for you, yeah?” He smiles kindly.

            “It’s hardly a _favor_ if I’m getting money and promo from it, Harry, but sure…” She laughs.

            “It _is_ a favor, because you could be out and about by now, and you’re not. I’m sure you’d rather be kissing a girl at a party than getting money you don’t need to help keep me in the closet.” The actor points.

            “When you put it like that…” Cara agrees.

            She tells him lots of things this morning too, but mostly about her coming out. Harry finds out Cara doesn’t have the most supportive family, her parents have always been too worried about their money and their image to care about what she really wanted, what she was feeling, so when she told her mom that she liked girls, her mom simply asked her to keep it tamed.

            _Keep it tamed_ , who says that to their kid? Harry asks, and he hates the answer, because he finds out more and more about her family, and through it all the only constant in her life is Louis. And Harry _knows_ he shouldn’t be losing focus here, but it’s just—Louis is so good!

            Sure, he must have some defects, because no one is perfect, but Harry hasn’t heard one thing about him that he hasn’t liked yet.

            He focuses back on Cara and lets his mind run the Louis’s information in the background, like he’s putting them in storage to check all of it himself later.

            “I also uh- met someone.” She tells Harry.

            “Oh, who?” He asks excitedly.

            “Annie.” Cara smiles. It’s the first time Harry’s seeing her being so soft. “Well, you must know her as St. Vincent? She’s an American singer…”

            “Yes. I know who she is.”

            “We’ve been talking… We met a while ago when things were really complicated for me, emotionally speaking. But we’re—we’re both available now, I guess? And, yeah, she might come ‘round one of these days…”

            “We can all hang out together, that’s no problem.” Harry smiles. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you like. You really deserve it.”

            “So do you.” The model says. “You do, Harry. And more than Nick fucking you on the regular.”

            “Well, can’t complain for now.” He sighs.

            “It’ll get better.” Cara smiles.

            “It’s not so bad, trust me.”

            This is honest. Harry was expecting so, so much worse. After what he went through, briefly “dating” Taylor Swift, the actor braced himself for the worst kind of bearding-relationship possible.

            You see, Harry isn’t the kind of person who hates another human being. He’s compassionate, he’s understanding, and for him to hate someone the person needs to be just—the worst. Taylor Swift isn’t the worst, so Harry doesn’t hate her, but she is pretty fucking close, and if never is the next time he needs to be in a conversation with her, then he’ll be the happiest man in the world.

                       

            Cara leaves in the afternoon, and Harry meets Nick at night. Well, Nick comes to Harry’s. It’s all quick, and honestly speaking not as impressive as Harry remembered it being, and afterwards they go out to have a drink with some of their friends.

            This is relaxing; it’s what Harry’s used to: intimate, light, _real_.

           

-

 

            The week Harry spends at his mother’s is the most boring week of Louis life since he met the actor, but that has nothing to do with _Harry_ , no. It has to do with the fact that Cara doesn’t do much, since her “boyfriend” is out of town, just stresses over the next month’s fashion week in Paris. Therefore, _Louis_ doesn’t do much.

            He goes to two of Liam’s practices, watches a golf tournament, and hands in two articles about the national team, but he’s still bored.

            “Seriously, there is nothing to do in this flat!” He groans for the hundredth time today.

            “Maybe you should go to _your_ flat then, you ungrateful bitch.” Cara replies, throwing her body on the couch by his side.

            Louis shows her his tongue.

            “Nothing to do there either.”

            “I know.” She rolls her eyes. “Harry’s coming back tomorrow, we’ll go clubbing.”

            “Never took you one for being submissive to a boyfriend.” Louis teases her.

            “His management was pretty strict about our contract.” His friend explains. “Plus, I’m happy that I get to chill, Paris is gonna be the death of me, but at least Annie will be there.”

            “Oh?”

            “She’ll sing at one of the shows. Then we’ll go MIA for a bit and it’ll be Harry’s turn to sit his ass at home without doing anything.” She smiles wickedly and Louis tells her how weird her grin is at the moment, resulting in a pillow fight.

 

            As expected, the day Harry gets back from Holmes Chapel passes by slowly, but at night, when Cara finally texts Louis to come over because they’re going to a club, Louis’ body gets all fidgety without his permission, and he does his best to contain his reactions before he gets to Cara’s place or he’ll never hear the end of it.

            Louis never denied he had a crush on Harry. Not when he didn’t know him, not when he did his best and convinced Cara that she had to do this. He was never the kind of person who was subtle about his interests, and up until the night he _met_ Harry, he thought it would be easier to be playful and funny with him.

            Here is the thing Louis Tomlinson wasn’t counting on: Harry is, admittedly, one of the cutest people he has ever met. He’s kind and he’s pure and he’s someone Louis would like – _likes_ – so easily that he finds himself needing to walk away before it’s too late.

            Because Harry’s off the table for him. He knows he is because Louis _asked_. He asked Harry if this were just flirting, and Harry said _yes_ , he told Louis it was _harmless_ , that he’s just a “flirty person”. And Louis, well, Louis accepted it and is going to make the best of this situation. Like tonight.

 

-

 

            The club isn’t the best place to talk, so they don’t. Instead, they buy many shots and get drunk fast, faster than Louis has in a while. Harry seems to be more comfortable tonight than he’s ever been in their outings, and Louis finds out that it’s because he’s with his crew.

            Apparently, his team is making it seem that Cara is the one accompanying him tonight, that Harry’s introducing her to “his people”, even though she’s already acquainted with some of them.

            In Harry’s people, there is a Nick Grimshaw. The journalist makes an effort to ignore him for the first two hours, and drinks in the background with a woman called Lou Teasdale, whom he likes instantly, as soon as she takes three shots in a row with him.

            “I’m sorry, you do what?” Louis asks again. She’s been trying to tell him what her job is for five minutes.

            “I’m a hairstylist.” It’s the first time Louis understands it.

            “PUT IN YOUR ADDRESS, I NEED A HAIRCUT.” He smiles and hands her his phone at the exact moment Lady Gaga comes on.

            Louis throws his hands in the air and searches for Cara in the crowd, and she’s already looking for him as well. They are huge fans of hers and Louis will never forgive Cara for not being in the exact Victoria’s Secret show that the singer performed.

            They dance together and then continue doing it, Harry and Sam, Louis thinks it’s her name, joining them for a while. Then, Harry excuses himself to get a drink. Louis sees it as he stops to take a breath. Nick circles Harry’s waist with one arm and says something in his ear, and Harry nods right away, turning to him and pressing a kiss to his neck.

            Louis turns around and Cara squeezes his arm.

            “CONTROL YOURSELF.” She yells in his ear.

            “I’m all right.”

            “For now.” The model warns and then pulls him by the hand, away from whatever is going on at the bar.

 

            Louis doesn’t look back, but goes home right after, fishing his cellphone out of his pocket and finally replying to a text that Ashton – a guy he met in Australia last year – sent him yesterday.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I KNOW I'm taking this slow burn thing a bit too seriously, but I promise you it'll be worth it. PLUS, Larry will hang out alone in the next chapter, so I guess you have that to look forward too??????
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments so far, they make me the happiest on the hardest days.  
> All the love. Xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I KNOW: you have EVERY RIGHT to be super mad at me!!! I promise I have good excuses. First of all, my schedule this semester is HECTIC. I wrote this chapter in two days, but with a week between those two days, simply because I didn't have time to SIT. Secondly, I've been having some laptop problems.
> 
> I promise that even if it takes me a bit, I'll always update :)
> 
> (A huge thank you to Jada, who's been betaing this story for me as fast as she can. What a blessing this fandom and the people in it are! <3)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, because, as promised, there's a bit of Larry hanging out alone.  
> See ya!

 

       The week they have to go to Paris is nothing but chaotic. Gemma comes back to the UK and brings Harry a script for a war movie alongside the romance one, and says that even though it’s  _ not _ what he usually does, she can totally picture him in that character. Plus, “it’s a Christopher Nolan movie, Harry, so we know it’ll be listed for awards on end”.

“I don’t know, Gems.” He answers truthfully. “I mean, I’m not even a fan of war movies, have you met me?” Harry asks and chuckles.

“Which is why you’ll be exactly perfect. It’ll show a side of yours that no one has ever seen before and you can prove to everyone that you’re way more than a pretty face.”

“I think that’s the first compliment you’ve paid me in… Forever.” He looks up from the script with a smirk on his face.

“Oh shut up, I tell you you’re brilliant all the time.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Uh.” His sister frowns. “I should. You are a brilliant actor and human being, Harry Styles.” She stops to think. “But then again we share the same genes, so you had to have some of my brilliance.”

“Aaaand we’re back to normal.” Harry laughs and Gemma rolls her eyes.

They keep talking about LA and what Gemma did there, and somehow, for the first time, Harry finds that he doesn’t miss The United States that much. When he tells her that, she asks him why, and he doesn’t really know, but it’s an okay feeling.

“How’s your week?” She asks.

“Going to Paris the day after tomorrow with Cara. Fashion week and all that.”

“Oh. How’s that going?”

“Okay, I suppose. We’re friends, ish, and yeah. Louis is almost always there, and he makes us laugh, so it’s all a bit more… Fun.”

“You hooking up with him yet?” His sister asks with a knowingly smile.

“No.” The actor surprises her.

“What? _Why_ not and where are you getting some? Because you look like you’re getting some.”

“Nick.” Is what he answers. “Plus, I think Louis’ got a boyfriend.”

“Since when?”

“Dunno, but he- he went on a date the other day when I was at Cara’s.”

“I was certain there was something between the two of you, you couldn’t shut up about him.” Gemma states.

“I like him a lot, but- like, we’re friends? I genuinely like Cara, she’s a great girl and—when this is all over, I want to be able to keep being friends with her, it’d be stupid to get involved with her best friend in the first place.”

“Why?”

“Cause these things don’t work.” Harry smiles feeling very smart, and then, mentally, with no smile in sight, he completes: _not for me anyways_.

You see, Harry believes in love. Even after what he witnessed with his mom, he seriously believes that love is out there – the forever kind of love that sweeps somebody off their feet and makes the whole world spin around. He just isn’t sure that it’s gonna happen to _him_.

In his mind, it makes sense. Harry can’t see a person who will stay by his side through all this bullshit; he can’t imagine the day someone will endure _closet_ and stunts with him. If not that, he can’t imagine why anyone would like to date “the guy who lied for years and years”.

_If Harry’s able to lie about such a huge part of who he is, what guarantee do I have that he isn’t lying about anything or everything else?_ A person might wonder. Harry thinks his person would be right, therefore, _yes_ , he believes love, partnership, happily ever after is out there for good people. For him, not so much.

It’s all right, though. He’s made his peace with that.

Gemma doesn’t say anything else. They snuggle on the couch to watch a Netflix show, and Harry only pays half attention to it, texting with Niall about the last details of his week.

 

-

 

As soon as the plane lands in France he gets text from Niall saying **_walk out holding hands_**. He simply shows it to Cara and she nods, walking towards baggage claim completely unbothered by it. Harry, on the other hand, doesn’t like it one bit. Still, he has a job to do.

Louis walks behind them alongside the airport security guards, as he understands his place when they are “stunting”. In front of the cameras, Harry and Cara are the stars, behind them, Louis is _always_ the center of attention – he tends to draw people in, the actor thinks.

The screams are worse than he flashes, Harry thinks.

_“Good to see you haven’t gotten tired of her yet.”_

_“Cara, are you worried he’ll hook up with another model?”_

_“How’re you feeling of meeting your ex Kendall this week, Harry?”_

_“Hey, Harry, look here, imagine my camera is boobs.”_

_“Cara, Cara, is he as good as they say he is in bed?”_

They don’t respond, but Harry’s body is tense when they finally sit inside the car and he feels like crying. Even after all those years, even after growing a thicker skin and getting used to the excruciating “reality” they created around him, it still hurts like the very first time when he had to deal with it.

The model places a hand on his knee as soon as the car starts moving, giving it a little squeeze. Louis simply stares looking sad.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” She says.

“I should be used to it.”

“No.” Louis surprises him. “No one should have to get used to it.” He says seriously.

Harry wants to thank them, but he can’t speak anymore. They get it when he tries for a smile, even if it’s a failed one.

 

-

 

Fashion Week itself isn’t bad. Harry absolutely loves fashion and every shiny thing it entails, so it’s no trouble for him to sit through shows and wear a different designer every day. It isn’t even hard for him to give interviews praising Cara, because honestly, she deserves all the praise in the world.

Some people make the fashion world out to be one of the easiest things in the world, but it’s… Hard. They’re in the spotlight all the freaking time, they have to look perfect _all the freaking time_ –  even more than actors. In all honesty, Harry’s found out that some of the most _insecure_ people he’s ever met are models.

Kendall is no exception, and when he sees her backstage, she’s losing her mind over a pimple he can barely see from up-close.

“Hey, how are you?” He moves closer, hugging his friend.

“Terrible, just want this fucking week to be over.” The girl rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how Cara does it, honestly, she doesn’t seem to care at all, just looks bloody gorgeous all the time.”

“That’s because I am bloody gorgeous all the time.” She laughs and proceeds to talk about something else.

Harry knows it’s more, though. One of these days they got talking and she told him about how much bullying she used to suffer when she was a kid – her only real friend being Louis. Cara says that if she went through that with almost no one supporting her, she could face some snobs as a grown up.

He, for one, thinks she’s very brave. Wonders if he’ll ever be like that.

“… But you’re still coming, right?” Kendall asks and touches Harry’s arm to catch his attention.

“Sorry, where?”

“Dior’s throwing an after party at a mansion nearby, you have to go!”

“I’m supposed to be supporting my girlfriend, if she says we’re going, we’re going.”

“Oh, we _are_ going.” Cara says surely.

“Where’s your minion best friend, babes?” The other model asks.

“Somewhere with _Hot Luke_ , probably.” She smirks.

“Who’s _Hot Luke_?” Harry is confused.

“A model, he and Louis had a thing last fashion week, they were texting back and forth about meeting here.”

“Oh.”

“Speaking of!” Kendall laughs and they all turn to see Louis rolling his eyes at the bodyguard who won’t let him in backstage.

“CARA!” He screams over the guy and everyone looks and laughs.

“HE’S GOOD.” Cara screams back. Something tells Harry that this isn’t the first time this is happening. “Where the bloody hell is your identification card, Louis?” She asks half-angry half amused when he approaches.

“Must’ve dropped it in the toilet.” Is all he offers. “Kendall, my love, good to see you stunning as ever.” He hugs her. “Promise no one’s gonna notice your pimple.” The journalist jokes.

“’M gonna murder you.” Kendall stares at him.

“Promises, promises…” He chuckles. “You good, babes?” He turns to Cara.

“I am, yeah, just want this to be over so I can go back to drinking.”

Today’s Thursday and also the last day they need to be here, though they’re bound to stay till Friday evening.

In about twenty minutes they are all ushered to their positions, and Harry walks out with Louis to find their seats, just to find out Louis doesn’t have one. _I usually just hang in the back, not important enough_ , he shrugs. Harry would happily trade it with Louis; however, he can’t, so he makes his way to the first row and sits by Adam Levine’s side, offering him a polite smile and good day before turning back to the catwalk, waiting for the show to start.

 

-

 

Friday morning finds Harry in bed and hungover. His eyes are hurting because the curtain’s already opened, and when he finally manages to focus on anything, he finds a bottle of water and two pills by the bedside table with a simple message scribbled on it: GET BETTER.

“Cara’s out.” A raspy voice warns him and Harry looks at his bedroom door, where Louis stands in all his gloriousness wearing only grey, loose sweatpants.

They’re in this suite that’s got three rooms, three bathrooms and a common living room, and Harry found it great until now.

Louis is a vision. He looks as sleepy as someone who partied until four am would, but he’s also gorgeous. How? Harry has no idea, but while he himself feels like he’s a complete mess, sweating in his sheets, stale taste in his mouth, there stands the journalist, like he’s just walked out a campaign photoshoot.

“Time’s it?” Harry asks, sitting up and taking the pills in hands.

They’re hard to swallow. _Fuck you, hangover_.

“Just after eleven, came to see if you want to order some breakfast food.”

“That’d be good.” The actor offers as soon as the water eases the pain in his throat. The only time Harry likes a sore throat is when he has just sucked dick. _This_ is not the case. This hasn’t been the case in oh-so-long. “Thanks, Louis.” He smiles. “Can you, uh- order everything? I’m starving, and I need a shower.”

“Take your time”, Louis smiles back. _So soft, so gorgeous_. “Breakfast will probably be here when you’re out.”

Harry nods and gets up, not even realizing he’s not wearing clothes. He sleeps naked, yes, but Louis didn’t need to know that.  

When the actor looks up to apologize, Louis is staring. It’s awkward, but they both clear their throats at the same time and Louis mumbles that _he needs to go call room service_. Harry totally doesn’t get off in the shower thinking of _that_ look on the other man’s face.

He takes his time washing and blow-drying his hair. Although it’s already Spring, the weather’s still not warm enough for him to let it dry naturally – plus, he likes the way his hair feels light and extra soft when he dries it in hot air, sue him.

Harry thinks over their schedule for the day and can’t remember of anything they have to do, so it’s a bit of a mystery to him why Cara isn’t here. He asks Louis first thing when he gets to the living room, finding the other man buried in food, and Louis answers him with the cutest face while he tries to pretend he wasn’t eating anything, waiting for Harry.

“Her girlfriend’s in town. She’ll sing at a show this afternoon and then they’ll travel somewhere. Cara said she completely forgot to tell you, and asked me to.”

“Oh.” Harry widens his eyes.

“They’ll go MIA for a while.” Louis smiles weakly. “Uh- guess you’re stuck with me till tonight when we get to London, Curly.”

“That’s all right, ‘m fine with that…” Harry smiles. “That is, if you left at least two slices of bacon for me.” He squints his eyes.

“What? I wasn’t eating, I was patiently waiting for you.” His voice goes an octave higher, if that’s even possible, and Harry’s even more endeared, if _that_ is even possible.

“Course you were.” Harry sits at the table, across from him.

“Your hair looks good- without, all these products and all that.” Louis compliments and the actor does not blush.

“Yours too.” He says, not really meeting Louis’ eyes. “I didn’t know it was so straight.”

“Afraid’s the _only_ straight thing in me.” The journalist jokes and Harry makes a noise he has never done before. He’s pretty sure it was supposed to be a laugh, but what comes out is a… Squeal? He’s not really sure.

“Oh my God what was that?” He asks with both hands over his mouth.

“The cutest little reaction to a joke of mine ever. A bit scary, but worth it for your face right now.” Louis winks.

“You’re ridiculous.” Harry throws a piece of bacon at him.

“Now don’t go wasting the bacon that _I_ saved for you.”

“My bacon hero!” The actor blinks fast and _acts_ dreamy. Louis doesn’t say much after that and they eat in silence. Harry feels more comfortable than he has in a long, long while.

 

-

 

The thing is, Harry wasn’t ready for this; and by this, he means he wasn’t ready to have this kind of simple, instant connection with Louis. He noticed it on the first day, sure; but he also noticed it every day that followed, and, somehow, being locked in a hotel room with the other man for hours on end makes it all the more obvious.

They’ve already talked about everything, Harry thinks. Louis has told him stories about his family, Harry has shared childhood memories, and they covered a bit of their teenage years. Now here they are, watching an episode of _How I Met Your Mother_. It’s the last thing they’ll do before catching a plane back to London, and Harry, surprisingly, thinks sadly about going back to “reality”.

“That’s bullshit”, Louis sighs for the hundredth time after Barney says _legen – wait for it – dary_.

“Why do you hate Barney so much?” Harry finally asks. “He’s one of my favorite characters.”

“It’s not Barney, it’s the actor.”

“YOUDON’TLIKENEILPATRICKHARRISLOUISWHATTHEFUCK?” It’s so fast and so loud that both of them laugh. Louis actually spits some water and it’s not attractive but it’s not unattractive either. Harry needs to get a grip.

“I love him, too, calm down, Jeez.”

“I don’t get it then.” Harry frowns.

“It’s like—he’s a gay actor, right?”

“Yes.”

“How many _gay roles_ has he had?” Louis asks. Harry doesn’t know. “Okay, answer me this: how many straight actors play queer characters?”

“Loads.”

“Exactly, it’s all wrong.” He explains exasperatedly. “Queer people aren’t given enough opportunities to prove themselves, and when they are…” The journalist sighs. “Neil is fucking great as Barney, but I mean… He could be play a gay character on this show or any other show or movie. Instead, they made him out to be this straight dude that fucks everything that walks because this kinda thing sells better.”

“I would know.” Harry huffs out humorlessly.

Louis changes his angry face to his _oh shit_ face.

“Harry I’m so—”

“No, it’s all right. It’s what sells.” He’s lost count of how many times he’s heard this sentence. “I see your point.” The actor gives him the best reassuring smile that he can at the moment. “Friends is better anyways.” He then comments.

“You’re my kinda guy, Styles.” Louis winks. He winks and Harry feels weak on the knees. Good thing he’s sat on the couch.

 

-

 

They’re already on their way to the airport when Cara texts Harry apologizing for not being there when he woke up, but assuring him that she left “Louis in charge”, and she was certain he was “going to like it”, winky face and all. At this hour she’s in Greece already with her girlfriend, at a secluded place where no paps will find her – she promises.

Harry isn’t much worried about it, if he’s being honest. In truth, the only thing that sucks is that he doesn’t get to go out much when she’s not there. He figures he can have coffee or something with _male_ friends, but God forbid meeting a woman for lunch.

He remembers once going out with Gemma, at the beginning of his career, and people saying she was his new blonde. It’s still disgusting now, years later, and the fact that they wouldn’t even blink when writing something like that again about any other woman he’s seen with makes him cringe.

Harry texts Cara back telling her not to worry about a thing, and promises he’ll behave as well – not that he has much of a choice. As he’s thinking of it, Niall calls him. Niall has been calling him three times a day for the past week, and Harry honestly wishes he would simply stop. 

“What?” That’s how he answers the phone.

Remember when he said he liked Niall? Well. He doesn’t very much when he acts like a baby-sitter.

_“Somebody’s in a mood.”_ The Irishman jokes.

“’M okay.”

_“Okay, Mr Politeness, just letting you know there’ll be a car waiting for you at the airport… And I’ll be the driver. You’re welcome.”_ Harry can almost see the smirk on Niall’s face.

“Oh. Uh- thanks.” He says.

“Tell Louis we’ll give him a ride.”

“All right.” Harry voices lowly. “Thanks again.” And hangs up.

“All right?” Louis checks.

“Yeah, it was Niall, my- uh, I guess, handler?” He kind of asks, Louis smiles understandingly. “He’ll pick us up at the airport.”

“Great.”

“He called me Mr Politeness.” Harry comments.

“And?”

“I don’t know if he was being sarcastic or just funny. If I were him I’d be being sarcastic, and- yeah...” The actor looks down. He hates it when other people make fun of him for things like that.  

“Harry.” Louis turns to him very seriously. Harry’s eyes widen. “Marry me.” He asks, catching both of Harry’s hands.

_“What?”_ The actor can’t help but chuckle.

“It’s just- you’re one of the few people I’ve met that says _if I were_ instead of _if I was_ and I promised myself I’d marry someone with correct grammar, so please, let’s runaway and get married!” Louis Tomlinson is a great actor, because his eyes fill up with tears.

Harry cackles up a laugh, one of those weird sounds that he’s only become acquainted with after he met Louis.

“Oh my God, you’re insane!” He comments, still laughing. “D’you go ‘round analyzing everyone’s discourses?”

“I’m a bloody journalist, Hazza, of course I do!” The _journalist_ explains, now laughing too.

“I like Hazza.” Harry softens, smiling at him.

“I like it too.” Louis smiles back.

A moment passes.

“So. Niall.” He remembers. “Was he just mocking me?”

“Maybe. Or maybe he thought it was weird because you _are_ awfully polite, but acted kind of strange with him.” Louis offers.

“I did, didn’t I? Remind me to apologize when I get there.”

“ _That’s_ the Harry we all know and like very much.” He nudges Harry’s side. Harry doesn’t get all fuzzy on the inside. He totally doesn’t.

 

-

 

They never stop talking, is the thing. People around them must get annoyed, but they just- can’t. They talk in the car and the driver has to stop them to tell them they’ve arrived. They talk in line to get into the plane, and take forever to find their tickets, because they were too busy talking to get them before it was their turn. They talk through the whole flight, barely noticing that they’ve taken off and landed.

And it’s _good_. It’s so good to make a new friend – a new… Something – that Harry doesn’t want it to end. They’re at baggage claim when a girl recognizes Harry and asks him for a picture. Louis takes it and she goes on her merry way with a smile. The actor barely notices anything else, though, since he’s currently thinking of something that’ll make him spend more time with Louis.

It’s late, he knows, he just—ugh.

Niall arrives, they get in the car, and Harry can’t think of anything.

“We’re five minutes away from your place, Louis.” Niall lets him know.

“Thanks, mate.” He answers from the backseat.

Harry turns up the radio and lets some Ed Sheeran distract him. When they arrive in front of Louis’ building, it takes the actor a while to notice it.

Louis has his own place. Wow.

The fact that Harry’s always seen him at Cara’s and has always connected him with her made him kind of forget that Louis is his own person, with his own job and his own friends.

A desire to know everything about _this_ part of Louis’ life, to _be_ part of it, too, fills Harry’s whole being and he finds himself thinking that yeah, maybe it’s good that they’re parting ways. Less than 24 hours spent with the man has already made Harry all stupid, he doesn’t even want to know what would happen if they were to spend _more_ time together today.

Plus, Harry is tired. He didn’t have the best sleep last night, and now that he’s in the car, going home, it’s like his body’s finally feeling the past week and the stress of cameras and hair gel. He’s glad he’ll be comfy in a few minutes.

“Hey.” Louis taps his shoulder. “See you ‘round, Hazza.”

“Bye, Lou.” Harry manages a smile.

The journalist closes the door and Niall snorts.

“ _Hazza_ , uh?” He looks at Harry.

“Drive.” Harry rolls his eyes and rests his head against the seat (?).

He closes his eyes and then he’s at his flat, in his garage with Niall nudging his shoulder.

Harry’s suddenly so tired. It’s like Louis drained him and now all his energy is lost in space.

“Thank you, Niall.” The actor says as he gets out of the car, going to get his luggage in the trunk.

“No need, mate.” He says and gets out too. “Hey, Harry, uh-” the Irishman hesitates, “I’m not your enemy, you know? I didn’t pick you up to keep tabs on you.”

“You’re not my friend either.” Harry says.

“I could be.” Niall shrugs.

And Harry is exhausted, he is. But he considers Niall’s words for a few seconds. And then…

“D’you wanna come up for a beer? We could order a pizza or somewhat.”

Niall smiles and says yes, so they go up together.

Harry’s flat is messy and he doesn’t like that. He comments about it and tells Niall what an organization-freak he is, he simply left in a hurry.

They both chat for a while, waiting for the pizza, and the beer does a good job at relaxing the actor and giving him another boost of energy. Niall tells Harry lots of things about his personal life – things Harry would never know about any of the other people who work for him, or, well, whom he works for. Harry never really understood that, and he’s inebriated enough by now that he tells Niall.

He tells him that sometimes it feels like his team doesn’t have his best interest at all, and that he just wishes he could have a do-over in his life and his career, so that he’d do things differently, go with a different company, maybe, and not have to lie to everybody. To his surprise, this time Niall doesn’t say “I get you, mate”.

“Don’t you think you’re a bit of a cry-baby?” His handler asks. “I mean- sure, it blows, but they’re not _bad guys_ , Harry. They’re just doing what they gotta do for you to survive in this industry.”

“And that requires keeping me in the closet and running fake stories about my life?”

“Sometimes.” Niall offers. “It won’t be forever. Two more movies and you’re good enough to come out. Maybe less.” He shrugs. “It’s not like you’re ready to come out anyways, Harry.”

“I am!”

“No, you’re not.” Niall scoffs. “You can’t handle fake news about you being oh-so-straight. What makes you think you’ll be able to handle the backlash from conservative assholes on who you really are?”

“But then it’d be about _who I really am_. Trust me, Niall; I’ve thought about it, I’m not a cry-baby.” The actor gets up a bit irritated, fetching himself another beer.

“Well, then. You know yourself better than I do, I suppose.” Niall gives in. “But at least talk more about the bright side than the down side of things, will ya? You got adoring fans, loads of money in your bank account, an awesome beard and a great handler.”

“A very modest one, too.” Harry smirks.

“Yeah. Plus, you get laid on the regular, few closeted people can say that.” He raises an eyebrow and Harry chuckles again, passing Niall another beer.

And then he remembers: he forgot to tell Nick he landed. He had promised he would call him as soon as he touched ground in London, but he was so worried about wanting to spend more time with Louis and not sounding absolutely desperate that he didn’t even remember to shoot Nicholas a text when he sent one to his mom.

Harry really likes Nick – they have a great friendship bond and it’s been awesome to live with his closest semi-famous friends again instead of the super-famous ones who aren’t even _that_ close to him. But… Something is off.

Harry can’t really point what it is, because they’ve been doing everything correctly. There aren’t feelings involved this time, which means things should be going great, neither of them are getting hurt, but… They aren’t. They both need to get tipsy to start something with the other and most of the time it’s like Nick’s doing Harry a _favor_ , which- okay, it _is_. But… It isn’t a satisfying one anymore.

“Harold? You in there?” Niall taps his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry… Blanked out, I forgot to call Nick.”

“Call him then, mate. I’ll be out of your hair.” The Irishman gets up.

“Nah- it’s all right. I can talk to him tomorrow.”

“I need to get going anyway, Harry. A bit of a drive from here to my place anyways.”

“Are you sober enough to drive?” The actor asks. “I have a spare room.”

“I’m Irish, I’m perfect to drive. But thanks for the offer.” He smiles and Harry smiles back. “Well, this was… Half-productive. We’ll get there.”

“There where?” Harry asks, leading him to the door.

“The part where we’re friends and you tell me all about your crush on Louis Tomlinson, best friend of your beard Cara Delevingne.” His handler winks.

“I—”

“Till then, I promise I won’t tell anyone at management. But- get it under control, will ya?”

“I will.” Harry swallows hard. “Goodnight, Niall. Thanks for everything.”

“Anytime.”

Niall goes home and Harry texts Nick before getting in the shower.

He’s tired, _God_ , he’s so tired, but also so worked up he only notices what he’s doing when his hand travels down his body and grabs his dick while the other pulls his own hair.

At almost three am, when he’s finally getting into bad, Nick replies to his text asking if the actor needs him to come over. Harry doesn’t; he’s already gotten himself off thinking of another boy.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody hates slow burns more than I do, but oh well... I like to suffer. (Clearly. I'm a One Direction fan after all.)
> 
> Pls let me know what you think.  
> All the love in the world as always.
> 
> Xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiiiii! Is anyone still alive to read this after Harry Styles did THAT?  
> Bloody hell.
> 
> ANYWAYS: before you KILL me, I'd like to give you a fair warning that there's Gryles in this chapter... But it's the LAST TIME you'll have to deal with them like... This.
> 
> ALSO: Louis and Harry get to know each other better :)
> 
> Hope you like it!

 

 

         It’s two days later and Harry’s at Nick’s place watching bad TV and playing with the DJ’s dog when Louis sends him a message.

**_Hey movie star, what are you up to?_**

Harry doesn’t choke on his own saliva, nor does he feels butterflies in his stomach because this is the first time Louis is texting him. Instead, he calmly grabs his phone and starts to type a reply while Nick doesn’t come back with their food.

**Just chilling on the couch tbh. Why?**

There. It’s not desperate, just a little bit curious. Harry’s totally got this.

**_Checking up on you, actually. Thought you’d be dying of boredom by now._**

“Hazz, want salad?” Nick asks from the kitchen.

“Yes!” He answers back. Harry really needs to go back to his diet at some point.

**Only a little bit.** Harry answers.

**_I got a game of FIFA and a few beers, if you need entertainment. Liam’s coming, too. We can have a lad’s night. Call Niall up._**

And- Harry could pass this up. He totally could. But, _does he want to_?

Louis is asking him to hang out. It’s not a date, not even close. It’s a _lad’s night_. Harry can easily say no, say that he’s still recovering from Paris and have a quiet time with Nick who – for the first time in weeks – wants to stay home. But then… Then he thinks about blue eyes and the high-pitched sound Louis makes when he’s happy, and just imagines them competing on a fucking game of virtual footie. He smiles despite himself, and before he knows it, the decision is already made.

He texts Niall and his handler says he can pick him up in an hour or so. Harry thanks him and gets up from the couch.

“Hey.” He calls Nick when he gets to the kitchen.

“You’ve got your _I gotta go_ face on.” The DJ smirks.

“In a bit, actually. Had something I’d forgotten.” Harry apologizes. “But we can eat first. I’m starving.” And it’s true. He looks at the food in front of him and it smells so good.

“Have at it then.” Nick says and sits across from him at the table. “What’s so important that you’re gonna leave me, Styles? Is Gemma back in town?”

“Actually, yes, but I’ve only seen her before Paris”, Harry laughs, “Think we’ll meet for brunch on the weekend. She doesn’t want to stay at my place anymore.”

“Why?”

“Something about not wanting to babysit me. I loved the days she stayed there though.” Harry pouts.

“You really weren’t born to stay alone, were you?”

“No.”

Harry wasn’t. It’s not that he _can’t_ be alone, it’s just that he hates it. He hates the silence, he hates the feeling of being just him in a big place. He hates not having someone to cook for or vice versa, and he hates watching movies alone without anyone to comment about.

Nick knows that about him, because they’ve done all of that together once. They’re still doing it now, on a different level, but. Harry likes that Nick knows that about him and respects it. And Harry likes _Nick_. And because of that, he decides to tell him _where_ he is going, even though he has no obligation whatsoever.

The actor sighs before speaking.

“I’m actually going to Louis’ place. Niall will be here to pick me up in-” he checks his watch, “forty minutes. We’ll have a lad’s night. Liam Payne is coming as well… Met him a few weeks ago, nice lad.”

“ _You_ met Liam Payne?” Nick points and laughs, “and you weren’t starstruck?”

“Only a bit.” Harry chuckles. “But I think he was starstruck by me as well, which is… Crazy.” Harry laughs.

“I’ll give you that.” Nick raises an eyebrow. “I’m kidding, you know? You’re very starstruck-worthy.”

“Is that a thing people say?” Harry squints his eyes.

“It is now.” The DJ rolls his eyes and Harry kicks him under the table, but they don’t entwine their legs like they used to. Hm.

They eat  while discussing what they have to do during the week (Nick has lots, Harry has nothing interesting) and then hang out on the couch with Pig (Nick’s dog) until Niall calls Harry saying he’s downstairs.

Nick snogs Harry against the door so hard that Harry needs to put his hair up in a bun – but you won’t hear him complaining. When he enters the car, Niall simply smirks and mumbles something about making Louis jealous. Harry ignores that. If this is Niall’s idea of “building a friendship”, then he’s sorely mistaken.

 

-

 

When they get to Louis’ place there’s already noise and booze going on. One would think he was throwing a party, but it is actually just him and Liam, laughing loudly and singing to the latest Drake single.

“You made it!” Louis claps his hands. “Hi, Hazza.” He says and hugs him. They’re hugging now. Ok.

“Thanks for inviting us, Tommo. I brought beer.” Niall lets him know.

“Put it in the fridge, Niall. Li, this is Niall, Harry’s minion.”

“Huge fan of yours, mate.” Niall says already from the kitchen while Harry has barely walked through the threshold.

“Hi, Liam.” The actor walks inside, going straight to the living room where Liam is, turning down the volume. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too, mate.”

Niall comes back to the living room and they all sit together to eat, talk, hang out. It’s not weird.

And it’s not like Harry was _expecting_ it to be weird, but- kind of. They’re all very nice people, but they are, mostly, strangers. Still, once they’re all watching TV and a footie match comes on, they start to comment on the game together, even though none of them root for those teams, and they take it from there.

Harry believes in connection at first sight. Or _at first hang out_ – and he believes that it’s exactly what is happening here.

Liam talks about the game like any professional player would, and it’s weird to hear him refer to some players by their first names or even personal nicknames, since they’ve always seemed to untouchable to Harry. But then again, that must be exactly how they feel when Harry stops Liam mid-sentence to tell a very funny story that happened _one of these days_ with Jen. As in, Jennifer Lawrence.

“Isn’t she kind of a bitch, though?” Louis asks.

“Uh?” Harry turns to him.

They’re on the same couch, and Liam and Niall each on opposite sides of the room on different armchairs. This is a huge couch. Louis and Harry are both in the middle, with little to no distance between them.

“Jennifer Lawrence, I heard she’s a total bitch. Always being mean to journalists and people in general…”

“Doesn’t she have just- like- a different sense of humor?” Niall frowns.

“Nah. A few mates in the industry really hate her. Plus some people on tumblr.”

“What’s a tumblr?”

“Are you on _tumblr?_ ”

Liam and Harry ask at the same time, respectively. Liam sounds curious, Harry holding a laugh. Last time he went on tumblr was two years ago and it was a dark, dark place.

“I’m a bloody journalist, I’m in every social platform possible, even Pinterest.” Louis explains. “Plus, _tumblr_ is the best place if you want to discover new stories. Fans usually notice things before anyone else. I just pursue what I think is plausible.”

“What _is_ a tumblr?” Liam asks again.

“A blog, Li.” The journalist rolls his eyes, fringe falling onto them. Harry thinks Louis looks very soft this way. “I’ll show you later. There are some interesting things there ‘bout you.”

“No, don’t show me.” The footballer asks. “Hate seeing things about me.”

“Cheers, mate.” Harry raises his beer.

“Wusses.” He mumbles and Niall laughs.

“You wouldn’t say that if _you_ were the one in the spotlight.” Liam accuses.

“Back to Jennifer.” Louis sighs heavily and scandalously, in a way that is very _Louis_ , Harry’s learned. “Is she a bitch or not, Hazz?”

“She’s… Different. Not the best person to work with, a twisted sense of humor for sure.” He chooses his words carefully, he hates bad-mouthing his work mates. “But I wouldn’t use the word bitch… Don’t like calling women that.”

At that, Louis simply swallows hard and apologizes. Harry thinks it’s cute.

“It’s just- like, there are other words.”

“I get it, you’re right.” Louis repeats, really sounding regretful. Harry simply nods and offers him a small smile. “Think the pizza’s ready!” He then says, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“You better check the oven, Louis can’t cook to save his life.” Liam tells him.

_Don’t I know?_ Harry wants to say. But he doesn’t, because then he’d have to tell them _when_ he last cooked for Louis, and for some reason he doesn’t want to share their moment in Cara’s place with anyone for now.

Harry collects Niall’s and Liam’s empty bottles of beer and follows the journalist into the kitchen. Louis is managing to take the pizza out of the oven without burning himself, so that’s a plus, Harry thinks.

“This smells absolutely amazing.” Harry says lowly, trying not to scare him off.

“As much as I love Domino’s, supermarket pizzas are way better than the ones we order.”

“Home-made pizzas are the best ones.” The actor says, opening the fridge to get them all more beer.

“I’m a lover of frozen food, Harold.” He accepts the beer Harry hands him, and rests his body against the counter.

“You haven’t tasted my food properly yet.”

“Is that an invitation?”

And there it is again, the flirtatious tone. The small smile on his face, threatening to become a smirk, which infuriates Harry just as much as it endears him. He just- he likes Louis so much.

“It can be.” He shrugs. “Whenever you’re free.” Harry sips from his beer.

“I’m _pretty sure_ you’re the one with the tighter schedule, love.” Louis teases.

Louis Tomlinson calls everybody _love_. Harry knows that. He’s _heard_ that. Yet, when it’s directed to him, he almost goes into cardiac arrest. Harry needs to take a seat.

“I’m honestly living for this stunt, Louis.” He sighs.

“Okay, then.” Louis smiles. “If you have no objections to eating pizza twice a week, we should do it in a couple of days, yeah? If you’re not too sick of me, of course.” The journalist chuckles.

Harry _should_ be eating healthier, he promised himself. Yet, what comes out is:

“I’m not sick of you.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “HEY, pizza’s ready!” Harry calls the other boys and waves with the beers in hands.

Both Niall and Liam get there quickly and they soon change the topic for something lighter and easier. Liam eyes Louis the way Niall eyes Harry, but no one comments about a thing.

“You do know that I’m a football player, right?” Liam asks Louis.

“So what?” He answers with another question and a mouthful of pizza.

“I can’t be eating pizza like this, your lifestyle will kill me.” Liam speaks as he chews and Niall snorts.

“Gimme all the pizza in the world.”

“I’ve never seen you eat anything healthy, how are you so skinny?” Harry frowns, finally noticing it.

“Irish!” The _Irishman_ winks.

“I envy you. I need to go back to working out.” Harry comments. “Hey, Liam, where d’you work out?”

“Man U sports center.” He answers.

“Oh, course.” The actor says more to himself than to Liam, feeling very stupid.

“I do run in the mornings, though, even before I have to be at the stadium… Just gets me going.” He says. “If you wanna join me one of these days.”

“Oh no, Liam will drag Harry to the _healthy_ way of life, _please_ help our boy, Niall!” Louis whines, and then makes a show of eating an especially cheesy slice of pizza.

Harry doesn’t preen under the _our boy_ part. He doesn’t.

“Harold needs to get back in shape.” Is what Niall says.

“Thank you, Niall.” The actor says offended. Then they all laugh. “I’d love to, Liam. Then Niall will hire me a personal trainer, one who’ll box with me, preferably.”

“You box?” Louis Tomlinson asks with a strangled sound.

“Uh- yeah?” Harry asks and chuckles. Louis still looks startled. “What?”

“I think Louis thinks that’s extremely hot.” Liam fake-whispers.

“Auch!” Harry complains. “If your intention was to kick Liam, you clearly failed.” Harry lets the journalist know. Louis… Louis blushes, and stuffs his mouth with more food.

Niall changes the topic, and there’s no tension anymore.

Upon leaving Louis’s flat, Harry’s got a new mate to work out with, a slight affection for Niall, and a very confirmed, very real crush on Louis Tomlinson.

 

-

 

Thursday brings Cara back to the UK and, consequently, a management meeting is scheduled. Harry takes a few deep breaths after he receives the call and gets in the shower, Nick following him a while later.

“You okay?” Nick asks.

“Yeah, just need to get to Modest in a while.” He answers. “Pass me the shampoo please.” Harry asks and Nick hands it to him, looking for the soap right after. “I think I’m gonna ask Gem to go with me though… It’ll be nice to have her there.”

“She might intimidate them into being less assholes.” Nick laughs.

“Gemma _is_ pretty intimidating.”

“I’ll say.”

Harry laughs.

“We should hang out tonight.” He offers. “Maybe put some of our friends together?”

“Why not tomorrow? Rinse.” Nick asks and then gestures for Harry to throw his head back so he can take the shampoo off of it for the actor.

“Got plans tomorrow.” _Tomorrow Louis is coming to hang out._

“Need to have dinner with mom tonight.” Nick says apologetically.

Years ago, he would’ve asked Harry to go with him. Today he leaves it at that.

“How is she?” He asks in a kinder tone.

“Old. Older after dad passes away.” The radio DJ comments, and his voice falls a bit. Harry turns around.

“I miss your dad.” He pouts, hugs Nick for a bit underwater.

“Miss him too.” And then he laughs. He laughs loudly. “God, Harry, we’re done.”

“What?” He asks, confused.

“We’re in the _shower_ , talking about my _parents_ , and _hugging_ , and no one is hard, or kissing or-” he laughs. “We need to be done, this is getting weird.”

“Auch.”

“C’mon, bigshot, you can’t seriously think we have any chemistry anymore.” Nick pinches his ass.

“Sex _isn’t_ as good as it used to be.” He ponders as he gets the conditioner.

He loves Nick for having great hair product; Harry rarely bothers to buy it.

“Oi!” Nick slaps him now. Harry laughs loudly. “We aren’t into each other like _that_ Harry. When I offered, I—I don’t know.” He chuckles.

“You’re one of my best friends, Nick. I’ve missed you like hell.” Harry confesses then, turning around so the DJ can rinse off the conditioner too.

“I don’t need to fuck you for us to be best friends, Harry Styles. We _can_ be just best friends.” He says kindly. “You’re all done.”

“Thanks.” Harry turns to look at him again. “I—don’t know what to say.” He chuckles. “But- I- I love you. As a friend. But I love you.” He smiles big.

“I love you too, you big sap. Now get outta my shower and go to your meeting.” Nick opens the glass door and Harry complies, leaving him with a kiss on the cheek.

They’re okay.

 

-

 

Harry should’ve seen this coming.  Like, he _really should have_. But he didn’t. So here’s where he’s at right now: Niall and Gemma are getting along. And when he says they are getting along, he is saying that _before_ the meeting even starts, his PA has already won his agent – also known as his sister – over, and is making all kinds of moves on her. And Gemma… Gemma doesn’t seem to mind. _God,_ Harry will throw up.

“You ok there, boyfriend?” Cara asks him with a smirk on her face.

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “Can’t this meeting start, for Christ’s sake?” The actor asks a bit louder and just as he finishes the sentence, Michael closes the door after entering the room.

Amen.

“Well, things are looking good for you two.” Michael comments as he sits at the table.

“Are they?” Cara’s agent asks. He looks triple their age. Harry doesn’t like him very much at first sight.

“Yes. Indeed.”

“Good.” He smiles. “My client has been satisfied with what’s been happening for a while, but we’d like to know how you guys would want to proceed now that the first month is over.”

“I think we should keep the pace.” Simon Jones offers. “At least for now and the next month, too. Then, after three months, they can settle on more stablished-couple things, like lunches out with the family and-”

“No family.” Harry puts his voice in. “I told you before and I’m telling you now, I’m not involving my mom in this.”

“Harry—”

“He said no, Simon.” Gemma advocates for him.

“No family.” Cara agrees.

“As I was saying…” Simon continues, resigned.

They come up with a plan for the next couple of weeks. Just- brunches and pap walks and the whole shenanigan Harry hates but has already accepted. Cara helps him, and only gives them the nice parts of her schedule, things she knows Harry won’t _dread_ doing, like photoshoots in which he can hang out with other photographers and learn more about cameras or clothe fittings in which he can get stuff for himself too.

Harry is very grateful for her, he really is. Every now and then he offers her a smile and she smiles back as if she’s saying _we’re a team_. And they really are.

Niall also has his back. He schedules the pap walks during the week and on reasonable hours of the day, so Harry won’t have to go out of his way that much. Cara, too. She likes it, and thanks Niall under her breath while he types down what will be printed in a bit.

“What about the weekends, though?” Michael asks.

“There’s a party coming up…” Harry says. “Lux’s.” He tells Gemma who nods. “She’s my friend’s daughter… It’s next weekend. We could go.” The actor then looks at Cara.

“You sure that’s okay?”

“It’s the only thing I can think of… I don’t fancy going to a club again.” He does his best not to whine.

You see, as much as people like to _talk_ , Harry is one to lead a quiet life. He isn’t really much for noisy, dark places. He used to be. He partied a lot in his first year and a half, but it got old so quickly that now Harry is a person who looks for one thing: routine. Even if it’s hard, being an actor and traveling a lot, he still likes to do his own things when he has the time for it.

He’s not boring… At least he doesn’t think he is. He just isn’t “the life of the party”. And he thinks that’s okay. And if he isn’t someone who would change for a partner in a real relationship, he sure as hell isn’t doing it for a fake one.

“… But it’s more than that.” Simon is saying as Harry tunes back in.

“People need to know that you are together even if you aren’t at an event.” Mike explains. “Like a snapchat at one of your places having a quiet evening, playing a board game, whatever…”

“We could do that!” Cara smiles. “Boars game night’s bound to be fun, right, boyfriend?” She asks excitedly. “I can invite Annie and Lou. You can bring your friends who know about our- uh, deal. What d’you think?”

“Could work. This weekend?” Harry asks.

“The next.” She ponders. “I think Lou has plans this weekend, and I need to give Annie a fair warning.”

“Kay. Yeah.” Harry agrees. But now he’s thinking about what plans Louis has.

Damn it.

“So, this is a start. We need more.”

“They can schedule more as they go. They’re friends.” Niall says. “I think we can be done, here. Right?” It’s not a question.

“Yes, please.” Harry answers anyways and sighs.

“Love you too.” Cara says sarcastically and the actor laughs quietly, dropping his forehead o her shoulder.

“Thanks.” He whispers.

“Stop thanking me, Styles.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.” The model chuckles.

It takes a few more minutes and some more lawyer talk until they let them go. Gemma tells them quickly that she’s given a few scripts to Harry and they’ll contact them as soon as Harry chooses one, and that’s it.

Everyone gets up and shakes hands, and Harry says good afternoon as fast as he can, just so he can leave this room.

He says bye to Cara and her agent and then take the elevator to the parking lot.

“Thanks for standing up for my brother. You’re not half-bad.” Gemma tells Niall once the elevator doors open.

“I’m actually a pretty decent guy.” He says.

“Oh God.” Harry groans and walks faster.

“You should go out to dinner with me.” Niall then says and _what._

“No.” The actor whines and turns around. “Not my sister, _please_.”

“Harold. Shush.”

“Did you- did you just _shush me_?” Harry widens his eyes and asks Gemma, feeling _outraged_.

“What would dinner with you entail?” His sister completely ignores him and squeezes her eyes, crossing her arms and staring at Niall.

Niall stares right back.

Harry wants to die. He also doesn’t move. His PA, possible friend is hitting on his _sister_.

“You’d have to go to find out.” Niall chooses to answer.

_Help_.

“Guess you’re taking me out to dinner then.” She shrugs.

So. This is happening. Harry shakes it off, keeps walking towards his car.

 

-

When Louis arrives, Harry’s just about to decide on the toppings for the pizzas they’re going to eat, so maybe he forgets he’s wearing a Minnie apron as he opens the door after buzzing him up, and maybe, just maybe Louis makes fun of him for it.

“Nice outfit.” He whistles as he enters the living room.

“Shut up, I am _cooking_ for you.” Harry replies.

“And it smells amazing!”

“It isn’t even in the oven yet, Louis.” He rolls his eyes and the journalist chuckles.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t delicious already.” Louis smiles, but it doesn’t really reach his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, still in the same place, just closing the door behind him.

“Had a bad day at work”, he wrinkles his nose. “But that’s why I’ve got wine!” Louis smiles brightly, better now.

“Figured you were a beer kind of person.”

“I am. But you prefer wine. So.” He shrugs. Harry wants to hug him and maybe kiss him at least on the cheek. “It’s not a big deal, Harold.” Louis dismisses it and Harry shakes his head.

“Thanks, Lou.” He smiles. “C’mon, get in properly…”

“Oh _yes_ , Harry Styles’s love nest, please introduce me to it- oh shit—not in that- that way, I was just making fun of you I—I got my foot in my mouth don’t I?” He snorts.

“It’s not a love nest, it’s a family home.” Harry defends his place. “Not that big either… I’m just one, after all.”

“No, uh- your flat’s pretty amazing, Harry.” The journalist offers kindly. “But please, show me to the kitchen? It’s where I’m most interested if I’m being honest.” He jokes lightly and Harry gestures for Louis to follow him.

He puts the wine to decant for a bit and then shows the _mise en place_ to him, who fish mouths twice before stealing a slice of pepperoni from a bowl. Harry chuckles and then proceeds to present all the kinds of cheese they can choose from – or just decide to put _all of them_ and _“this is why homemade pizza is so much better”_ , he tries to convince Louis.

Louis says he doesn’t need any more convincing, because he already loves this.

So they finish the pizzas together. Harry lets Louis play with the ingredients and by five thirty pm they’re putting two in the oven, now arguing whether they should make two different sweet pizzas, or just one with two different toppings.

At the end, Louis gets it his way and they make _two_. One with Harry’s disgusting _fruits_ , “NOBODY PUTS FRUIT ON PIZZA YOU LUNATIC” _,_ and his full of chocolate and M&Ms.

“You know, lots of people put fruits on their pizzas. Especially with chocolate… Strawberry, you know?” Harry arches his eyebrows suggestively and bites half a strawberry.

“Not even your obscene mouth around that innocent little heart shaped strawberry’s gonna convince me to put it on my pizza. Leave it be!” The journalist says and protects the uncooked pizza with his body.

Harry laughs.

“I have an obscene mouth, do I?” He smirks.

“Shut up.” Louis rolls his eyes. “You do. But that’s just- common knowledge, isn’t it?”

“How is my _obscene_ mouth common knowledge, Louis Tomlinson?” The actor squints his eyes.

“Like Cara’s eyebrows.” He points. “Cara’s got striking eyebrows, I have a _great_ ass, you have an obscene mouth. Common knowledge, see?” Louis smiles and turns around, throwing some stuff in the sink.

“Great ass indeed.”

And then Harry laughs. Harry laughs loudly and unabashedly, because he’s just made Louis blush again. It’s such a rewarding feeling. He can’t even begin to explain.

“I hate you.”

“Just because I make you lose in your own seduction game.” Harry shows his tongue.

“It’s not a game.” Louis responds seriously.

And yeah- maybe… Maybe it isn’t.

 

-

“I broke things off with Nick.” Harry tells him halfway through the first pizza. One that Louis is _moaning_ through while earing. Like. Honestly.

“Oh. Why?”

“He broke up with me, again, actually.” He laughs. “But no- really, this time we were just pushing things, I think. Wasn’t working. We’re great friends, though.”

“How can you be friends with him? Ugh.” His whole body shudders and Harry laughs again. “If I were you I’d stick only with Niall. Niall’s a good one.”

“Niall is… I’m still trying to figure out how to trust him. He asked my sister out, though.”

“He what?” Louis almost spits pizza and wine everywhere. It’s very funny.

“After a management meeting this week. Made me kinda sick.”

“Isn’t your sister a big girl?”

“No. She’s my little sister.” Harry mumbles and takes another bite.

“She’s _older_ than you.” The journalist points.

“She’s my _little_ sister, still. I don’t care that I was born after her. That was a- a mistake.”

Louis laughs.

“Okay, bigshot. But she doesn’t need protection and Niall seems harmless.”

“Whatever. If it were your sister you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“No. Probably not.” Louis agrees and eats again. “Christ, this is really good. Hope you know you’ll have to make lots of this to me so I can keep in my freezer. Supermarket ones simply won’t do anymore.”

“I can do that.” Harry smiles.

They eat silently for a bit, a song by _Catfish and the Blottlemen_ playing in the background. Harry could fall _so_ easily into this. But he can’t.

“Hey, Hazz?”

“Hm…”

Louis looks almost scared, but he says it anyways.

“I- I have a date tomorrow.”

Auch.

“Really?”

“Yeah. A guy named Ashton? Australian. He’s really cool, and I- I’m kinda nervous.” He bites his bottom lip.

“Why?”

“Dunno. Haven’t gone on a _date_ in forever. What if I suck at it and he hates me? We hit it off pretty well last year, but I don’t know.” He shrugs.

“You’ll do great, he’ll be an idiot if he doesn’t fall for you.” Harry assures him. “I’ll even help you pick and outfit tomorrow as the great friend that I am.”

“You do know I’m friends with a _model_ right? I’m pretty sure she’ll help me with an outfit.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m _always_ on the _most well-dressed_ lists, okay?”

“Guess I’ll have to accept your offer then.” Louis agrees and Harry smiles satisfied.

They take the sweet pizzas to the couch alongside with the wine and find a mutual love for Leonardo DiCaprio, so Harry suggests _The Wolf of Wall Street_ , because he absolutely loves it and thinks it’s a masterpiece.

To his surprise, Louis asks him to _please_ choose another. He hates that movie, and when Harry asks _why_ , Louis considers for at least _two_ minutes his answer. Then he looks into Harry’s eyes, and something settles between them. And Louis decides to _tell_.

“I was filthy rich in the past. I lived on the same street of Cara; of course I was loaded…” The journalist says and his smile is bittersweet, reminiscent. “I had the most boring, cliché family ever, I swear. My friends had stories to tell about parents cheating and divorcing, something going on with their nannies, and I just… Nothing ever happened to my rich, perfect family.”

Louis tells the story like he’s reliving it. It’s enticing, and Harry can’t take his eyes off him.

“I used to lie about mom and dad fighting or Lottie being sick just so I’d have anything interesting to say…” He chuckles. He looks a lot younger. “I think I was about eighteen when the police knocked on our door; they had a warrant.”

“For what?”

“Everything. They turned our house upside down, and dad was arrested. Apparently he’d been involved in some kind of Ponzi Scheme…”

“What?” Harry scream-whispers.

“Yes. Don’t you remember the Tomlinson scandal? It was everywhere.” Louis says. “Lots of people lost their money. Many investors lost, like, everything. It was absolute hell and all of our accounts were frozen. I hadn’t known about a thing until that day, neither did mom. Dad was a son of a bitch and we just—we’d been living with him and thinking…”

They both sigh at the same time. Louis takes another sip of wine.

“… People recognized us everywhere; we were the most hated family in the UK. Cara’s parents stopped talking to us; her dad lost millions, too, since they’d been working together for a long time by then. She stuck by my side, though. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without her… They’d threaten my mom and sisters, sent all kinds of messages saying they’d rape them or _me_ for that matter, just some—despicable things, really.”

“God, Louis, I’m so sorry.” Harry says sincerely. _Where was he when this happened?_ He wonders if his mother remembers anything about it.

“Thanks.” The journalist doesn’t look at him when he speaks. “So we went from millionaires to broke in the span of a week. I hated my name, we all did, and we were all basically unemployable… Who would want to hire us?” He laughs.

“I got into uni on a football scholarship, because I was good. Eventually got a job at the uni cafeteria, and my eleven-year-old sister was at home taking care of the younger ones while mom worked three jobs that were _very below her_. Mom was a hell of a lawyer, and suddenly she was working at a petshop, a restaurant, and a clothing store. All very dignified jobs, just… Very different from our previous reality.”

“Dad’s still in jail, if you’re wondering.” Louis looks at him then. “He signed a deal for twenty years.”

Louis drinks the rest of his wine, sighs heavily again. The only thing the actor can think is:

“If it were a hell being a Tomlinson, why did you keep the name?”

Louis has a quick answer.

“You still use your father’s name as well, Harry, and he left you when you were five. I think you know the answer to this question.” It’s not harsh, it’s just… A statement.

“In spite of everything, he’s still your dad.” The actor comprehends.

“He’s still my dad.” Louis agrees. “It took a year, but things eventually settled in. Mom remarried, as you know, and I actually managed to do something useful with my degree… Cara pulled in favors, I’m not gonna lie, but—I’m good at what I do, even if it doesn’t seem like much.”

“It’s a lot, Louis. I don’t know how you keep up with so many matches and players and stuff… You _are_ good.” Harry doesn’t notice he moves towards Louis on the couch till their faces are very, very… _Close_. “And- you’re very brave. Wish I knew you back then, I would’ve stuck by your side, too. And your family’s.”

“I’m sure your sixteen year old self would’ve done everything you could.” Louis smiles kindly. “Thank you for listening to me. I haven’t told this story in a long, long time.”

“Is there more? You can talk for as long as you want.”

“Not really. It all just… Sucked so much, sometimes I just feel like complaining about this part of my life. Whenever I traveled with Cara I felt bad, but when I wasn’t, I’d just have these nightmares that people were coming at me and the kids, or mom, for what my father did.”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

“I don’t think I’ve told about this to anyone, the nightmares. I feel like a baby now.”

“Hey…” Harry touches his hand, pulls Louis closer. “It’s all right.” He hugs him and Louis goes easily, fitting his head in the crook of Harry’s neck. “D’you visit your father?”

“Once a year, maybe? I know the girls see him more, but I—I do it for selfish reasons. Like, I always think _what if he dies and you regret not seeing him?_ But I still haven’t forgiven him. It’s not only about _my_ family, but… So many people lost so many things, Hazz.”

Louis only calls Harry _Hazz_ when he’s feeling very soft, Harry has noticed. Harry loves soft Louis. He likes to feel like he can protect him too, and he pretends he doesn’t know how close he is of crossing the friendship line.

“It’s understandable, Lou. I promise, you’re not a bad person. You’re…” _Perfect_. “You’re only human. A great human, I might add.”

“Thank you. For tonight, for… Everything, from food to talk.”

“Likewise.” Harry kisses his head. “Another glass of wine?”

“Please.”

Harry gets up as Louis chooses _another_ DiCaprio movie.

This could easily be a date. But. It’s not a date.

Louis has one of those tomorrow after all. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you let me know what you think? Pretty please?
> 
> All the love in the world <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii, there.  
> I really hope you enjoy this chapter. I liked writing it.
> 
> All the love.

        Ashton is late for their first date.

        Louis knows he is late because _Louis himself_ is a bit late, but then he arrives at the restaurant they are supposed to have dinner and the guy isn’t here. So Louis does the only sane thing he can think of: he calls Cara to try and pass the time. Only his friend doesn’t pick it up.  

        The journalist knows for a fact that Liam is on a date himself, and if he calls his own mother she will try to talk him out of waiting for the Australian man, so calling Harry really is his _last_ option. Also, the actor picks up in less than fifteen seconds.

        _“Don’t tell me you’re already back home!”_ Harry says. _“Was the date that bad?”_

        _Why doesn’t he sound sad?_ Louis thinks and doesn’t notice his own smirk.

        “Hasn’t even begun yet. He’s late.”

        _“Yikes, that’s bad.”_ The actor offers.

        “It is. Help me pass the time and not look like such a loser, please?”

        _“Louis Tomlinson asking for help. That’s a first.”_ Harry teases; Louis snorts. _“Tell me about your outfit, did you dress up nicely for him?”_

        “No?” Louis chuckles. “I dressed up nicely for myself. The day I dress up for a man is the day they dress me up to meet _Jesus_ , Harold!”

        “Good to know.” Someone says.

        Someone who isn’t Harry, because Harry is currently cackling up a terrifying laugh that makes Louis want to record it and play it for him later, just to make fun of him. Louis doesn’t, though, since Ashton is behind him with an amused smile on his face.

        “Uh- I gotta go.” Louis says awkwardly on the phone and then hangs up, not waiting for Harry’s reply. “Hey. Long time no see.” He smiles as Ashton rounds the table to sit in front of him.

        “I am so sorry, Lou! I didn’t rent a car, so I took the subway, and then I got _lost_ on the subway, and I know- I’m late, but- I’m sorry.” He says very fast.

        Louis chuckles.

        “It’s fine. Was keeping myself entertained.” He gestures towards his phone, which lights up with a message as if on cue.

        It’s from Harry: **_d’you think Jesus would prefer Burberry or Alexander McQueen?_**

The journalist manages to refrain from laughing. Barely.

“You look good. Even though you didn’t dress up for _me_.” Ashton raises his eyebrows.

        “Sorry about that.”

        “Nah. You’re fine.”

        “You look good, too. It’s been forever since we saw each other in person. How are things going?”

        From then on, the date is pretty standard, Louis thinks. Although he is _dying_ to text Harry and tell him he is an Alexander McQueen kinda guy, because, let’s be honest, Harry Styles is the one who looks sinful in Burberry, Louis focuses on their conversation and actually has a lot of fun with the Australian man.

        Ashton is a photographer, and tells him that he’s in town for a job, and that depending on how it goes this month he’ll be staying for at least a year, so he didn’t ask Louis out thinking that this would be a one-night stand thing – he makes it clear. It only scares Louis a bit, if he’s being honest. Few people are so upfront with what they want, and it’s like a breath of fresh air when Ashton says _I’ve been wanting to date you since we met, did you know that?_

Louis laughs a bit too loudly and unabashedly, and who cares that he spills red wine all over the table, at least they are having fun.

        “I’m usually not this clumsy, I swear.” He giggles into his hands when the waiter walks away after cleaning their table as best as he could.

        “I’d be fine if you were.”

        “I’m not.” Louis assures him. “So, you gonna keep riding the subway for the rest of the month or will you actually find yourself a car?” He asks the photographer.

        “I’ll take my chances with the subway”, he smiles. “I’m bound to get used to it, right?”

        “Sure, sure. I can help you for now.” He smiles.

        “You came by subway as well?”

        “Nah, I drove.”

        “Will you take me home then, Lou?” Ashton jokes.

        “If you play your cards right…” Louis muses.

        “So you _do_ put out on the first date, uh?”

        “If I want to? Yes, sure.” He shrugs. “They made these stupid rules just so they could have one more thing to shame people… Honestly, if everyone just focused on their own damned lives…”

        “You’re right, you’re right. One more thing to like about you, then. You don’t care about what other people think.”

        “One _more_ , uh?” Louis asks.

        “There’s plenty.” He smiles.

        “Likewise.”

        Louis genuinely _likes_ Ashton. He can keep the banter and the conversation light, in a way that doesn’t hurt Louis’ personal space, but doesn’t necessarily stay out of it either. The best thing about tonight is that it’s light. They fight over the bill and agree on splitting it, but _next time drinks are on me_ , Ashton says.

        “Who says there’s going to be a next time?” Louis asks.

        “You, I hope.” The photographer smiles coyly.

        “I’ll think about it.” Louis winks and opens the car door for him.

        Ashton enters it with a smile on his face.

        Their talk in the car is mostly about the directions Ashton is giving him, and when they finally make it to the other man’s apart hotel, Louis parks the car on the other side of the street and sighs with a thoughtful expression.

       

        “You okay?” Ashton asks.

        “Yes, really okay.” Louis smiles easily, and then looks at him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not going up there with you tonight. And- I know what I said, don’t think it’s because I didn’t want to, it’s just-” He bites his bottom lip. “I kinda do wanna see you again, so maybe, could we- like-”

        “Take things slow?” Ashton finishes for him. Louis nods. “I’m completely fine with it, yeah.” He smiles brightly, hair falling onto his eyes. “Hey, Lou?”

        “Hm?”

        “How slow are we talking about?”

        “Not too slow.” Louis huffs out a quiet laugh and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Let’s say… If you _wanted_ to kiss me… I would _probably_ let you.”

        “Probably?” Ashton asks.

        Louis lets him find out.

 

-

 

        “HOW WAS IT HOW WAS IT HOW WAS IIIIIIIIT???????” Cara jumps up and down as soon as Louis gets to her place.

        He didn’t want to go home yet, or at all, tonight, so he texted to let his friend know he was on his way.

        “Need a beer.” He comments.

        “Badly then?” She asks.

        “Actually quite good. ‘M just thirsty.” He says.

        “Hm…”

        “I like him, babes.” Louis smiles, opening her fridge. “He’s funny and not bad to look at and- fuck I need to reply to Harry’s text!” He remembers and opens the beer before fishing his phone out of his pocket.

        Louis moves to the living room and brings his beer with him, waiting for Harry to text him back. It doesn’t take much longer. Like, five minutes later the actor answers him with lots of laughter and they start a serious discussion about British Designers versus French Designers.

        Harry is _very_ partial to Yves Saint Laurent, but he believes they should value their own designers as well, so he’s always at a crossroads, especially when it’s Award Season and he has to choose from various designers from different nationalities.

        **Must be so hard being you, really!** Louis bites down a smile when he texts.

        **_It is!_**

**Poor baby, having to choose among very expensive and exclusive clothes…** He teases.

**_Heeeeeeeey, don’t act like you’re never dressed in anything that isn’t expensive and exclusive._** Louis can almost hear Harry’s “heeeey”.

**I get those for free!!!! Because of Cara!!!!**

**_I get those for free too!!!! Because of myself!!!!_** The journalist does _not_ picture Harry Styles widening his eyes and looking very adorably making his point about this.

**Cheeky.**

**_Nothing but_** **.**

And so it continues.

        They stop teasing each other about clothes and start talking about something else. Harry never asks about his date and Louis doesn’t really mention it, too invested in convincing the actor that those herbal teas he likes to drink in LA have _nothing_ on the amazing In-N-Out burgers Louis loves to have so much when he’s there. This discussion takes a long time too.

        It’s only when Cara taps his shoulder that Louis looks up from his phone for the first time since he sat down on his couch with a beer he only half-drank, long forgotten on the coffee table.

        “What?” He asks her.

        “You know, one would think you were texting your _date_ , because of the stupid look on your face.” Cara comments.

        Louis rolls his eyes.

        “My date was amazing. And now I’m talking to my friend.”

        “About your date?”

        “No. About-” he looks down at his phone and smiles again. Involuntarily.

        **_We should put a trivia night on our schedule._**

“About trivia night.” Louis answers. “We were talking about getting together to have some fun with Niall and Liam. We all hung out when you were MIA with Annie, and it was very nice.” He explains.

        **Definitely, Hazz! We can talk about it on board game night! Cara told me about it :D**

“So, lemme get this straight: you and Harry are _friends_ now?”

        “Yes.” He smiles brightly.

        “ _Just_ friends?”

        “I went on a date with another guy not even two hours ago, Cara.”

        **_Oh yeah, that’ll be fun. Will you team up with me?_**

“That’s not an answer, Lou.” His best friend accuses. “Is your crush on him completely gone?”

        **_You know, if you don’t, I’ll kick your ass at scrabble_** **.** Comes another text. Louis doesn’t act endeared or Cara won’t let him hear the end of it.

        “Yes, it is.” He sighs tiredly. “We’re _just_ friends, okay? He’s a nice lad, Liam likes him, you’re fake-dating him… This is a good thing. Plus, I’m going on a second date with Ashton, so, there’s that.”

        Cara doesn’t seem to believe him much. She only shrugs and mumbles a _whatever you say_ before getting up to get them more beer.

        **Yes. I’ll team up with you.**

 

-

 

        Louis works restlessly for the next week, simply because he doesn’t want to think about… Things. It’s not that he’s avoiding Harry _or_ Ashton, it’s that he _isn’t_ , and he feels like he should, at least for these five days.

        He doesn’t, though. He actually keeps talking to the actor nonstop and making fun of the new script he’s interested in (“you can’t be a soldier, Harry, you’re too cute for that”), and agrees to go on a second date with the Australian photographer.

        They go to a coffee shop close to Louis’ place this time, mainly because Louis doesn’t feel like driving and wants to get back home in time to send his review of the last Liverpool vs Man U game while there are still people in the office. Louis is _so_ glad he doesn’t have to work 9 to 5.

        “Did you miss me?” Ashton smirks, but Louis can feel that he’s really asking.

        “I did, yeah.”

        It’s not a lie, because here’s the thing: as much as Louis is still trying to get his crush on Harry under control, he genuinely likes Ashton. He’s right now one of those fourth graders that wonder if it is possible to like two people at the same time, only he isn’t brave enough to ask this question out loud, half embarrassed and half scared of what his friends might say.

        So he keeps his dilemma to himself, and decides to act truthful with the guy who is giving him attention at the moment.

        “How’ve you been?” He asks over his cuppa.

        “Good, job’s going great, if I’m being honest. I’m really excited, Lou.” The photographer smiles.

        “You never told me where it was…”

        “GQ Magazine.” Ashton smiles coyly.

        “Oh my God, that’s huge.” Louis surges forwards to hug him. “Congrats, Ash.” And then, being spontaneous, Louis pecks his mouth. It’s really quick and dry, but the other man lights up like a Christmas tree. Louis doesn’t dwell in the fact that it doesn’t do anything for him, tells himself that it was because _it’s just a peck_.

        “Thank you, Lou. Really, I’ve… I’ve been feeling really lucky.” He holds Louis’ hand. “I’ve met some really nice people at work; we’re all going out on the weekend… You should come.”

        “I’d love to, but I can’t.” Louis admits. “Harry’s having this thing at his place and I already said I was going…”

        “Who’s Harry?”

        “Oh, yeah, Harry, uh- Styles?”

        “The- the actor?” Ashton widens his eyes.

        “Yeah.”

        “You _do_ know everybody, don’t you? You’re friends with Harry Styles?”

        Louis doesn’t laugh, but if it could, it’d be less painful.

        “I am.” He smiles. “But because of Cara, of course… She’s dating him.”

        And, here’s the thing: Louis could have told him the truth. He’s known Ashton for a while now, he’s trustworthy, and he’s on his way to become boyfriend material. Still, Louis _knows_ it isn’t his place to out anybody. He _promised_ Harry he would _never_ , and Louis keeps his promises. Especially promises like this one.

        “Oh, that’s right, think I’ve heard of it…”

        “Yeah. It’s a small gathering, Harry’s really boring, because he suggested board game night, but.”

        “Leave it to Louis Tomlinson to call one of the most envied men on the industry right now _boring_.” Ashton laughs.

        Louis doesn’t tell him that Harry is the best, perfect kind of boring.

        “Alright then…” His date says. “Maybe we can do something on Sunday?  I know we agreed on the _going slow_ thing, but-”

        “Sunday sounds perfect.” Louis smiles big.

        It’s been too long since he felt like this, like the center of attention of someone. He’s had flings and he’s had crushes and he’s flirted a lot – clearly –, but the fact that Ashton doesn’t hold back is refreshing. Louis likes him. He doesn’t know if he _likes likes_ him, but he likes him. _See. Fourth grader_.

       

        They talk for an hour, Louis thinks. Then Ashton walks Louis to his building and snogs him against the wall, refusing the proposal to go up with him, because 1) he has work to do, 2) they’re taking it slow, and being alone with Louis is too much of a temptation for his poor soul.

        So Louis gets home, sends his review about the game via email at four thirty pm, and then showers, looking at a very lazy, very comfortable night watching Desperate Housewives. Harry watches it as well and they text through the entire thing. It’s disgusting.

 

-

 

        Louis arrives with Liam at Harry’s place, because Cara has been there since that morning, when she sent a snapchat of Harry cooking her breakfast after a _late night_. Louis rolls his eyes and watches people online freak out while he pretends their _late night_ involved his best friend smoking weed on Harry’s veranda while the actor rehearsed lines for an audition in the living room.

        Liam can’t shut up about this new play Manchester has been working on and _you have to go to the game next week, Louis, Harry said he’s going!_.

        “Wait, when did you invite Harry for a game?” Louis frowns.

        “Uh- yesterday morning?” Liam kind of asks, pressing the lift button. Louis frowns. “You do know we’ve been running together, right?”

        Louis nods, but truth be told, he’d completely forgotten that they’re two fitness freaks and are bonding over exercising routines. Like, _honestly_.

        “Anyways”, Liam resumes, “it’ll be great, plus, it’s against Manchester _City_ , Louis. It’ll be a hell of a game. I can get you tickets for Ashton, too, if you’d like.”

        The journalist himself could get them all tickets and Liam knows it, but he never stops offering, because he’s just one of the best people ever.

        “Maybe. It’ll be nice, I think.” Louis puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the lift.

        “Plus, it’s an outing for Harry. Cara should go.”

        “Since _when_ do you care about Harry’s stunts?” Louis asks and smirks, just as Harry is opening the door.

        _Oops_.

        “Uh- evening?” Harry asks.

        “IS THAT MY LOUIS?” Cara screams from the inside.

        “Is she already drunk?” The journalist frowns.

        “She’s Cara. She’s just being loud. _You_ of all people should know that that’s very possible.” Harry teases.

        “Rude.” The journalist rolls his eyes and walks past Harry without saying anything else, hearing a _hiiii, Li_ behind his back.

        Louis is okay with Liam and Harry being friends. There’s no problem, really, considering the fact that Louis really likes Niall, for example, and would totally hang out with the Irishman without the actor’s presence.

        The difference is: Niall isn’t Harry’s best friend (at this point, Louis isn’t even sure Harry and Niall _are_ friends, as Harry seems very reluctant to trust his handler), and yet, Harry has already gotten close to two of the most important people in Louis’ life, Cara and Liam.

        And it’s not his fault, really. Louis is even _happy_ that they’re all hanging out and getting along just fine. What bothers him, but he buries because he’s so not willing to go there, is the fact that in such little time the actor has already taken over big parts of Louis. And Louis doesn’t even care.

        But tonight he won’t worry. Tonight is about friendship, and cheating on games, and drinking lots of alcohol.

        “Tommo! Team up with me, _please_ , Gemma sucks!” Niall calls him up as soon as he is done hugging Cara.

        “Gemma, hi, nice to finally meet you!” Louis smiles and moves to hug her.

        “You too, heard so much about you.”

        “You did?” He raises an eyebrow surprised.

        “I did.” Harry’s sister smirks. “You are gorgeous, indeed.” Gemma winks.

        “So are you, love. Runs in the family, I suppose.”

        “Flattery will get you _everywhere_ , Tomlinson.” She jokes.

        “Hopefully _not_ with you.” Niall comments and stares at the girl. Louis laughs loudly.

        “Oh my God. You’re gonna give Harry a heart attack.” The journalist places both hands on his mouth and looks back. Harry’s rolling his eyes, drinking a beer. And Louis is very fond.

        They keep talking and Niall lets him know that he’s already gone on two non-dates with Gemma, and that Harry really was okay with it after he realized his handler was, indeed, interested in his sister. And Louis can see why.

        Throughout the night, Gemma proves to be a male version of, well, himself. She’s witty, funny, and quick to make fun of everyone in the nicest way possible when she has the opportunity. Only she’s smarter, and classier, and impossible not to like – while Louis is more… Controversial.

        Louis apologizes to Niall and says he had already promised to side with the actor, so the girls make a duo, Liam and the Irishman form another, and Louis and Harry… Well, Louis and Harry find out that they are the dream team.

        They don’t win every round of Monopoly or Scrabble, but they do play as if they have been doing this for forever now. It’s just easy. The moves, the banter, the way they communicate with only their eyes. If Cara whispers in Louis’ ear that they are disgusting more than once, then nobody but the two of them needs to know.

        Louis phone starts ringing at ten thirty; by now, everyone is more than a bit tipsy. They’ve eaten, _a lot_ , but they’ve also drunk like there is no tomorrow, so the amount of alcohol ingested kind of surpassed all the food they put in their systems.

        “Hiiiiiiiii”, he says, in front of everyone.

        _“Lou, you drunk?”_ Ashton chuckles on the other line.

        “Tipsy. But am winning!” He smiles big. “IS NOT!” Liam screams on his phone.

        _“Who’s that?”_

        “Liam.” Louis chuckles.

        “Who’s that?” _Liam_ asks.

        “Ashton.”

        _“Me.”_ Ashton replies. Louis laughs. He’s happy. Life’s pretty, isn’t it?

        “No, I was telling Liam it was you on the phone.”

        _“Oh, say hi to everybody_.”

        “Ashton says hi.” Louis voices. Liam smiles tightly, Cara nods. The rest doesn’t react. “So tell me, to what do I owe the honor?”

        _“I’m going home now, pub night ended early cause we’re all knackered after this week… Just wanted to know what time I can pick you up tomorrow.”_

        “Oh, guess midday? I could pick you up, too.” Louis offers.

        _“I gave up and rented a car.”_

        “Yaaay”, the journalist celebrates and he can hear Ashton chuckling. “So, midday?”

        _“It’s perfect, Lou.”_

“Kay, then.” Louis smiles despite himself. “Looking forward to it.”

        _“Not more than I am_.”

        “I resent that.”

        _“You’re ridiculous.”_ Ashton says fondly. _“Go enjoy your friends. Get me a Harry Styles autograph… No, don’t do that. I’m totally kidding.”_

        “Totally!” Louis makes fun of him.

        _“Shut up. Go. Bye.”_

        “Bye.” Louis smiles and hangs up. And when he looks around, Cara and Harry are gone.

        No one says anything, so Louis grabs another beer and restarts his conversation with Liam.

       

-

 

        Deep down, Harry knows he has no reason whatsoever to be _mad_ at Louis. Yes, he is mad, and he admits that. It’s not _jealousy_ , it’s just… Ugh, he doesn’t know.

        “Care to explain?” Cara asks him as she follows Harry into the porch.

        “Explain what?” He asks back.

        “Why you look like you’re about to explode because Louis got a call from his guy.” She offers, playing his game.

        “I just needed some fresh air.” He shrugs.

        “Yeah, right”, the model replies unimpressed. “Want to do some shots?”

        “You know it.” Harry smiles and chugs down his beer. Shots will be very much welcomed now.

 

-

 

        Harry wakes up with a killer headache, but his sister doesn’t seem to care much.

        He doesn’t really remember how he went to sleep or even if he said goodbye to everyone. He remembers feeling weird towards Louis at some point during the night; he remembers going to the balcony and drinking with his “girlfriend”. Then, he’s waking up right now to the sound of Rihanna coming out of his speakers, and his very much awake and _not hungover_ sister screaming loudly to the beat of the music.

        He wants to cry, Harry does, but he wills himself to take a few deep breaths and slowly open his eyes. It has to be at least eleven am, and he absolutely hates waking up this late – his body just isn’t used to staying in bed after ten, and that is if he is _extremely_ tired, which he isn’t, cause he’s on a break.

        Harry walks slowly towards the kitchen after he manages to wash his face and brush his teeth and Gemma smiles lightly when she sees him. Harry mentally thanks the heavens because 1) she’s cooking, 2) she slept here and not with Niall.

        He’s not jealous anymore; at least he thinks he isn’t. It’s just weird that in weeks his sister went from this single person who didn’t care about men to someone who has regular dates with a person that is part of Harry’s management team. It’s weird. And he’s maybe a bit overprotective. But- he’ll live. He’s just glad she’s here, it’s all.

        “Morning, sunshine.” Gemma singsongs. “Good of you to wake up, Dad will be here anytime.”

        “Dad?” He frowns and looks for coffee on the counter. Coffee is one of the things he misses the most from the United States.

        “He’s in town, called you up and I picked up, so I invited him for lunch.”

        “Oh, okay. What are you making? Smells delicious.” The actor smiles.

        “Surprise.” His sister answers. “Hey, H… I know you are hungover, but can we talk about the scripts I sent you for a minute?”

        “Sure, I was thinking about this the other day… I know I said I wanted a year of break, Gems, but  I’m proper bored.” He confesses, sitting on a stool.

        “I was talking to Ni and maybe you could send some audition tapes? It’d give you something to do.”

        “It’s Ni now.” He smirks.

        “Another thing I’d like to talk to you about. But one thing at a time.”

        “Okay.”

        “So, we’ve got the-” she stops and focus on the stove, puts something Harry doesn’t see in one of the pans and then continues talking, “we’ve got the romantic movie and the war movie for you to audition to, that is—if you want. Only you’ll have a bunch of competition for the war movie, and the romantic one is practically yours… They basically shoved that script in my hands in LA and begged me to give it to you.”

        “Good to know I’m wanted”, he muses.

        Gemma rolls her eyes in a very Louis manner, and Harry starts wondering in which point he started to think of Louis looking at other people’s expressions.

        “I hate war movies… But- it’d be a great challenge, wouldn’t it?”

        “I told you that already.”

        “Heeey, do not sound bored.”

        “You’ve already made your mind, but you’re scared and need convincing.” She turns to him, analyzing the situation. “And Niall _is_ right when he says you still need to grow up, lil bro. Make this decision for and _by_ yourself and you’ll be one step closer to being a proper grown up.”

        “Okay. I’ll- do they have a specific scene they need me to audition for? I wanna do this.” Harry admits.

        “Yes!” She smiles hugely, and he knows he’s made the right decision. “I’ll check my email after I finish this and mark it for you.”

        “Thanks.” The actor finishes his coffee. “So. Niall.”

        “I like him”, she shrugs. “I am not in love with him; we’re not an epic story or anything like it… But I like him, H. He makes me laugh and he’s a nice lad, you know?”

        “Uh, I guess.”

        “He _is_. He’s doing his job and at times we’re both gonna hate him for it, but he’s good, yeah? He’s always thinking of you and what you need to do to keep your image clean but still- you know, _pleasing_ to his bosses. He’s working hard for you, H.”

        “I know. I trust him as my handler.”

        “He also wants to be your friend.”

        “Isn’t one Styles enough for him?” Harry jokes.

        “You’re an idiot.” Gemma pokes him. “Did you know that that first day I went out with him just because your face was _so_ priceless? And he knew it. We made fun of you the whole night…” She laughs.

        “Nice, Gems.” He chuckles.

        “But then when he asked about a _second round of making fun of H_ , I- I realized he was really pleasant to be around, and I just really wanted to see him again. And we’re a good duo.”

        “Okay.”

        “Give him a chance, H.” Gemma says. “To be your friend, I mean. You need a friend who isn’t me.”

        “I have friends…” Harry defends himself.

        “Your friends are all the way in Los Angeles, and they haven’t spoken to you since you came here. They have no idea of what’s going on in your life, because they haven’t reached out to you. And to be fair, you haven’t reached out to them either. They’re not your _friends_. They’re your circumstantial friends. Just like Nick and- his _pack_ here.” Pack. Ha.

        But.

        _Ouch_.

        “I’ll give your boyfriend a chance, Gemma.” He jokes, but his sister simply smiles happily. “Wait. You didn’t deny he’s your boyfriend.”

        “That’s because it doesn’t matter.”

        “Of bloody course it does!” Harry says exasperatedly. “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?” He asks, eyes widened.

        “We don’t like labels. We’re exclusive, though. Call us whatever you want.” She jokes. The doorbell rings. “It’s dad. You gonna shower anytime today? You smell like alcohol.”

        “I will. You can open the door and tell him I’ll be out in a while.” He gives in.

        “Okay.”

        “And Gems?” She looks at him on her way to the door. “For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you.”

        “Thanks, lil bro.”

        “Welcome, big sis.” He chuckles and goes towards his ensuite.

        Lunch goes well.

        Harry loves his father despite not really _liking_ him. This happens, and people don’t often admit it, but it’s more common than not: to still love someone when you don’t like them anymore.

        Harry and Des have literally nothing in common apart from their interest in football and the occasional sailing experience. But- he’s Harry’s dad, and Harry remembers clearly the night Louis told him that he had loved his father for five years before Des walked out on their family, and it stuck with him.

        They eat, and they even manage to laugh. Gemma tells him she’s seeing this guy but doesn’t mention a name, and Harry talks about work, telling him that they were just talking about his options before he arrives. Des gets ecstatic when Harry tells him he might be in a war movie.

        “… And a Christopher Nolan one, that is _huge_ , son, congratulations. And congratulations, Gems, for finding it for him.” He smiles.

        “It’ll be a long while till I get there, though. Rumor has it I’ve got some tough competition.” Harry offers and sips from his orange juice.

        “You’re very good, H, I’m sure you’ll get it.”

        “Thanks, dad.” Harry smiles.

        “And when am I gonna meet that girlfriend of yours?” Des asks. “She’s a model, right?”

        “You haven’t told him?” Harry questions Gemma. She talks to him more than Harry does.

        “Course not, it’s your story to tell.”

        “Oh. She’s not my girlfriend, dad, I’m gay, you know that.” He chuckles, saying it serenely, not expecting Des’ answer to be:

        “I thought you might’ve changed your mind.” His father voices.

        Harry drops his fork and knife on the plate like someone has just slapped him.

        He believes his father isn’t a bad person. He thinks Des is a good person who has made many mistakes. But right now it’s very difficult for him to acknowledge that.

        “It’s not a _choice_. I couldn’t _change my mind_ even if I wanted to.” He explains as calmly as he can. “And I don’t. Want to. For all that matters.”

        “It matters a lot.” His sister offers. “Honestly, dad.”

        “I’m ignorant. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, son.”

        “Yeah, ‘s all right.” Harry answers and sips from his drink once again.

        “So… Any boys in sight?” Des tries.

        “No. No boys in sight.” The actor lies.

 

-

 

        It’s Friday night again when Harry realizes his sister was right: he really has no friends, unless he counts the ones he’s just made. And Ed Sheeran, he remembers, but Ed Sheeran is on tour and can’t, unfortunately, be present to be his wingman tonight.

        Harry really wants to go out tonight, he feels like he is going insane with all the _Louis thoughts_ he’s been having lately. He’s not _jealous_ of Louis’s current relationship, he just feels a little bit stupid that he can’t quite… Support it, because of the simple fact that Harry still hasn’t managed to let go on this ridiculous _crush_ on the journalist. But then again… Harry thinks that that’s how _real_ crushes feel like.

        Ugh. He hates it.

        So. Nick is out of the question because even though they are very good friends, he doesn’t want to _ask_ Nick for help to get laid. He can’t ask Louis for obvious reasons. And that leaves him with Niall. Harry promised Gemma he’d try, and Niall promised Harry he _would be_ of help if he ever needed it.

        _Niall it is then_ , he thinks.

        Harry knows for a fact that his handler and sister aren’t together, because Gemma is back in Holmes Chapel visiting Anne and Robin – something Harry needs to do again sometime soon –, so he just dials Niall’s number waiting for him to pick up in order for them to get on with tonight.

 

-

 

        “I can’t believe I’ll finally help the legendary Harry Edward Styles get _laid_ , ladies and gentlemen! Or, you know, _just gentlemen!_ ” Niall announces as he enters Harry’s flat.

        “Tequila’s on the counter if you want it.” Harry laughs. “Do I look good?” He asks gesturing towards his own body.

        He’s very rarely not wearing his signature jeans, so of course tonight he’s in painted on black pants and a polka dot pink and white button shirt that is only a bit big on him. Harry really likes that shirt, and he feels like he looks _fit_ and _adorable_ at the same time in it.

        “You look like sex but also like a Disney princess, so I’m very confused, but I’m sure men will fawn over you.” Niall says truthfully, reaching for shot glasses.

        “Thank you, that’s my goal.” Harry grins. “You don’t look bad yourself, Niall.”

        “Thanks. I wanted to look good enough to be considered gay, so I could, you know, fit in where we’re going.”

        That makes Harry laugh _loudly_.

        “What? Don’t you say that us straight fellas can’t dress up properly? I was just trying to summon my inner gay.”

        Harry can’t decide if this is even funnier or a little bit homophobic, but he does admit that, more than once, he’s thought of how ridiculously straight men usually dress. He is somewhat thankful for Niall having been so thoughtful.

        “You look really good, Niall.” Harry offers. “Some might even think you’re _bi._ ”

        “Not gay?” He frowns.

        “You’ll get there.” Harry pats him on the back and accepts the shot glass Niall is handing him.

        Before they get drunk, Niall tells Harry where they’re going, how they’re gonna get in and out, and if Harry decides to sleep with someone, Niall has even reserved a hotel, because _we don’t need any crackpot knowing where you live or making you a prisoner in their place._ Okay. So maybe they are already a bit _tipsy_ when Niall says those last sentences. Who cares?

        The fact is that they go out and Harry dances a lot with his handler, laughing and drinking more than he recalls in his past outings.  Maybe they _can_ be friends.

        The actor meets a hot guy on the dance floor. It takes less than two minutes for Harry to decide he’s gonna sleep with him, but a little over two hours until he finally gives Niall the green light to usher them out of the club.

        Harry isn’t expecting Louis to call when he’s in the car with the other man, though. Partly because it’s after one am, partly because Louis is supposedly with Ashton.

_“Hazz, you awake?”_ Louis asks, voice a bit uncertain.

        “Yeah. Are you all right?” Harry asks while he tries to concentrate. _Hot guy_ has his hand on the actor’s thigh and, after all, Harry is only human.

        _“Yes, was just checking up on you. Ashton left me at home a while ago, but I can’t sleep. Thought we could watch something bad and comment about it…?”_ Louis kind of chuckles.

        “You’re getting hard, aren’t you?” _Hot guy_ asks Harry, hand on his bulge. _Fuck_.

        “Lou, I-” Harry takes a deep breath. “I’m not home right now.”

        _“I think I’ve heard_.” His voice turns cold and unimpressed. _“Guess I’ll let you go then.”_

        “I’m sorr- _ah_ ”, Harry can’t help this moan and he feels _so_ embarrassed. It’s just _hot guy_ has just bitten his neck while pressing down on his cock. Damn it. _Louis_. “I’m sorry, Lou- I’ll…” _Breathe, Harry._ “Call you tomorrow.”

Harry thinks he hears Louis say a weak _don’t bother_ , but the truth is, he only hears a clear _goodnight, Harry_ , and then Louis hangs up.

        The actor closes his eyes and lets himself be taken over by the pleasure of having someone _on_ him. And even if it isn’t the someone he truly wants, but isn’t even nearly ready to admit it out loud, it’s gotta be enough. At least for tonight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think this slow burn is killing you, you have no idea of what it's doing to me...........
> 
> But.  
> Be ready.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, there, here I am again! Sorry to make you wait. As I said, this is an atypical semester (or year? idk) for me. Things are insane. But I hope you won't abandon me.

 

        Harry meets Liam at seven am on Saturday after the actor went to sleep at four am. He needs this run anyways. His stomach is still a bit upset because of all the alcohol last night, but the truth is his own mind has been swirling ever since he hung up the phone on Louis before he even did anything.

He knows he was a bit of a prick answering that call in the first place, but he wasn’t expecting _hot guy_ to continue his advances while he was talking to somebody else, and he thought answering it and saying he wasn’t able to talk at the moment was better than ignoring the call altogether. Now he knows it was a bad decision, but oh well, the damage is done.

Liam notices something is wrong right away, but he doesn’t say anything, just hands Harry a Gatorade and says _morning, mate_.

Harry really likes Liam. He’s focused and serious, but can also act like a puppy if he wants to. They don’t talk much while they’re on the run, breathing and all that, but an hour and a half later they find a nice diner on a corner street and decide to sit down to have breakfast together.

The football player is excited. This footie season is very close to coming to an end, and Liam has yet to shut up about tomorrow’s game.

“You’re coming, right?” He asks.

“Yeah, sure.” Harry smile. “I don’t remember the last time I watched a game live, it’ll be awesome.” The actor offers.

And it’s true.

During his pre-teen years his father used to take him to lots of stadiums, trying to create some sort of bond, but it never went further than that. Still, Harry’s love for football is real, and although he can’t play for shit, he understands the game. And he understands it enough to know that Man U vs Manchester City is a freaking _classic_ , and tomorrow’s game will be specifically challenging. Harry can’t wait.

“You nervous?” Harry asks.

“More like, excited?” He kind of asks. “I know some people say that having friends and family on the stands makes them more nervous, but it actually puts me at ease. I’ll be better tomorrow than I’ve been playing.”

“You’ve been playing fantastically, Liam, I was properly starstruck when I met you.” Harry confesses, chuckling a bit.

“That makes both of us, mate.” Liam offers. “You alright, H?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You look like hell.” The footballer shrugs.

“ _Excuse me, Liam_ ”, Harry fakes outrage, voice high-pitched.

“It’s true, though.”

“Had a rough night.” He dodges, and then: “ok, no- I mean. It’s more than that.”

“You don’t have to tell me, mate, it’s all good.” Liam gives him an out and sips from his coffee.

“I might’ve had a one night stand yesterday and I might’ve picked up the phone while the guy was- uh, advancing on me in the car? And it might’ve been Louis and he _might have_ gotten a bit- uh—I don’t know?”

“Shit, Harry.”

“I swear I didn’t mean to be a dick, Liam. Why would he even _care_ , right?” He chuckles. “But it was probably very uncomfortable, and I feel like I just have to apologize, is all.”

“Trust me, he cares, if only a bit.” Liam smirks. “You both won’t get your heads out of your asses anytime soon, will ya?”

“I- wha—no, we’re fine, Liam.” Harry replies. “He’s got Ashton now, who is good for him I’m guessing. And I’m in a very weird phase in life. We’re really just friends, and good at it.”

Liam snorts but doesn’t say anything else. Harry doesn’t think Liam believes him, but, worse than that, Harry doesn’t think he believes himself at this point.

The footballer leaves right after they finish eating, claiming he needs to get to the training center. Harry assures his new friend that this breakfast is on him and sits there for a while longer, scrolling through his phone, and responding to some fans online.

After that he calls Niall to talk about how they’re going to go about the game tomorrow, and his handler lets him know that there will be paps waiting for him and Cara at the entrance, but they should be left alone once they were inside. Harry’s fine with that.

If he’s being honest, this whole closet thing hasn’t been very difficult so far. Partly because Niall is, indeed, a great personal assistant, handler, or whatever you want to call him, and partly because Cara Delevingne is genuinely one of the nicest people Harry has ever met. It’s just not exactly easy either.

 

-

 

Harry calls Louis first thing on Sunday morning.

He knows he’s going to see him in the afternoon, and maybe because of that he feels like he needs to apologize in advance.        

Louis only picks up the third time.

_“Hello?”_ He asks, sleepy, cute voice in Harry’s ear.

“Morning, Lou.” Harry says.

_“Too early, Harry.”_ The journalist mumbles. _“What d’you want?”_

“You’re going to the game this afternoon, right?” Louis makes a sound that Harry interpreters as a _yes_. “Kay. Yeah, I just wanted to, uh- apologize.”

_“For what?”_

_“Who are you talking to, Lou? Let’s sleep.”_

Harry can barely focus on Louis’s question after hearing another man’s – Ashton’s – voice in the background.

_“I’ll go back to sleep in a second. Harry needs to talk to me.”_ Louis whispers and Harry can hear a kissing noise, like Louis has just pecked the other man’s mouth or kissed his temple or- whatever. It doesn’t matter. _“Apologize for what, Harry?”_ Louis focuses back on their conversation.

“For Friday night, I- shouldn’t have picked up the phone while, you know.”

_“You shouldn’t have.”_ Louis agrees and chuckles. Harry doesn’t know if it’s real. _“It’s okay, though, I shouldn’t have called in the middle of the night either.”_

“No, it’s completely fine.” Harry says. “Don’t ever think you can’t call me.”

_“Okay, I- thanks, H. I gotta go now.”_ Louis tells him apologetically.

“Yes, uh- sure, of course. See you later.”

_“Laters_. _”_

 

-

 

The game is, as Liam predicted, amazing.

Forget having to hold hands with Cara for dozens of paps at the stadium’s entrance or having to meet Ashton as soon as he sets foot in the box, the moment that game starts it’s like nothing else. Harry watches the players give their best and feels absolutely transfixed by the way they move.

He’s got one beer in hand and a beard on his side, and he feels good. He doesn’t think of anything that isn’t _please, Li, score a goal_. And like he’s listening to Harry’s every prayer, Liam does.

What Harry wasn’t prepared for was watching Louis jump on Ashton and kiss him as a celebration. It stings. Oh, it does. But then again he remembers kissing Nick more than once in Louis’ presence, and wonders if the other man felt as jealous and as ridiculous as Harry does. He guesses not.

“Drinks at mine after this!” Cara announces, chugging down another beer.

As if they aren’t inebriated enough.

“Today’s Sunday!” Louis reminds her.

“And?” His best friend laughs. “Do any of you work tomorrow?”

No one except Ashton raises their hand.

“You can come by just for a bit?” She asks.

“I’ll take you home afterwards.” Louis promises.

“Kay.”

“ _Wehey_ , look at that!” Niall points to the field and they see a Manchester City’s player too close to the goal.

Nothing happens, but it’s a scare. 

The game ends 20 minutes after that with a score of 1 vs 0, the only goal scored by Liam Payne, ladies and gentleman. Harry posts a pic on his instagram and it’s the first colored pic he’s posted in a while. He doesn’t know why. Not yet at least.

 

-

 

They’ve already drunk three bottles of wine, and that wouldn’t be considered much for five people – Liam still to arrive, stuck at the stadium giving a press conference – who are used to drinking hadn’t they all been drinking since four o’clock in the afternoon.

It’s seven now, and Harry’s properly buzzed.

They all gather around the living room waiting for the pizza to arrive, and Niall is telling a funny story from when he lived in Ireland. Harry focuses on it and laughs so hard he almost falls off the couch, and has an insight right then that maybe his handler _is_ the perfect person for his sister.

Right now Harry can see exactly why Gemma said she liked him so much, and Harry sets his mind on starting to trust him more. For real this time.

“Was that your first time?” Cara asks.

“Yes, it was. It was good in the end, but I was fucking embarrassed.” He laughs more. Niall is tomato red now.

“At least it _was_ good, my first time was disastrous.”

“With a boy or a girl?” Louis asks, like he’s searching in his mind for the memory.

“A boy.”

“Oh! John Wilson. Small dick guy.” Louis points and the model sighs, rolling her eyes and then drinking a bit more.

“That was a low for me.” She agrees and then looks at them again, another smile creeping on her face. “It was _unfuckable_ small; I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking you were a teenager and wanted to get laid. We’ve all been there.” Niall offers.

“Here, here”, Harry raises his glass of wine and chuckles, drinking it and then passing the rest to Cara, who finishes in one go.

“Did he at least have a big heart?” Ashton asks.

“Does that _matter_?” The model frowns.

“I mean- in the war between big dicks versus big hearts…”

“We stick with big dicks!” Louis finishes. “But of course.” He chuckles.

“But-” Ashton frowns.

“Oh please”, Harry actually pleads, smiling a bit at Ashton. “You’re gonna tell me you’d rather have lost your virginity to a guy with a small dick but who loved you?”

Ashton already told his story. It was a funny one as well, a bit tragic, maybe, but still funny. Harry has _no_ idea of how they got to this conversation.

“No.” He grants. “I’m saying they balance each other out.”

“They really don’t, mate.” Harry snorts.

“How would _you_ know?” Ashton accuses.

Well.

“I can ride big dicks. I can’t ride big hearts.” The actor raises a brow and everyone but Ashton laughs a lot.

Then Harry notices it, Louis’ date with his eyes widened, a confused expression on his face. _He didn’t know_ , Harry understands a second before Ashton says:

“Wait, you- what?” He asks.

“You hadn’t told him?” Harry asks Louis, voice lower than normal.

“Course not.” Louis answers on the same tone. “I promised you, H.”

Both Cara and Niall watch it without saying a thing.

Ashton clears his throat.

“Oh.” Harry realizes. “I-” he looks from Cara to Ashton, and then at her again. Cara nods as if she’s saying _it’s okay_. “I’m very gay myself, Ashton.” Harry tells him. “Cara and I are just business.”

“HEY!” She elbows him.

“We’re really good _friends_ now. But that’s it.” Harry smiles.

“I thought you were Cara’s beard. I knew it wasn’t real…” Ashton says slowly. “But I…”

“If anything, _she_ is my beard. She was about to come out when Louis convinced her to do this insane thing for me.” Harry smiles, remembering the first night Louis told him this story.

“Wow.” He sits back down.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the full story before. It wasn’t mine to tell.” Louis says.

“That’s fine. I’m just glad I know now.” He smiles and pecks Louis’ mouth. “So, Harry Styles, _do tell_ , how was your first time?”

They keep talking about this until Liam arrives, only a few minutes after the pizza, at which point Niall celebrates not being the only straight around anymore. Louis goes to the kitchen to get them napkins and plates so they’ll have something to eat on, and Harry follows him.

“Hey, Lou.” Harry calls his name quietly.

“Yes, Harold.” Louis turns around, small smile playing on his face.

“Not that I ever doubted you, but… Thank you. For keeping my secret.” He says.

“Of course.” The journalist replies. “I would’ve never told him if that was what you wanted, you know that, right?”

“… Right.” Harry sighs. “I said it because… Because he seemed nice enough. And he’s in the industry and- I know I’m not the only closeted case he knows about right now.”

“Probably not.” Louis agrees with a chuckle.

“You seem to like him.” The actor offers.

“I do.” Louis looks down.

“He really likes you.”

“You think?” He asks.

_He looks at you the way I think I look at you_ , Harry thinks.

“Yes”, he smiles. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks.” Louis opens a real smile now. “You’ll get there too, you know? To something real.”

“I hope so.” Harry says. “Lemme help you with the plates…”

 

-

 

Louis decides to visit his family on a Thursday afternoon.

Upon entering his mother’s house he already notices the obvious: a hurricane in the form of two toddlers and two pre-teens have been here already, and the incomparable smell of tea and cake that only Jay is able to prepare.

“Where are my favorite people?” He asks from the hall.

“Lou!” His mom calls from the kitchen. “There’s only me here.”

“What?” Louis asks a bit outraged. “I said I was coming and the rest of the family decided to go away, what the hell?” He keeps saying as he walks inside the house, moving towards the kitchen and finding his mom there with an easy smile on her face.

She turns the stove off and looks at him, chuckles lightly.

“Dan’s on a work trip, and Lottie took all the kids out so we’d have some time to talk, we’ll meet them for dinner at seven at that restaurant you like.” Jay tells him. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, mom.” Louis hugs her and feels comforted. God, it’s like he can breathe. Only moms do that, he thinks.

“How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m fine. Well rested if I’m being honest.”

It’s better than saying _well fucked_ , Louis thinks.

“That’s good. Last time I saw you, you couldn’t sleep because of a piece you couldn’t finish.”

“That ship has sailed, thank God.” He sighs.

And then he remembers: last time he saw his mother he was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on with the contracts regarding Liverpool’s stadium, and finding lots of problems to get around the law so as to get information; last time he saw his mother was months ago… Before he met Harry.

Louis takes a deep breath. He knows it’s been too long, but when he puts it in perspective… It seems it’s been even _longer._

“Now it’s been pretty boring to be honest. Most exciting thing that happened recently was regarding a golf player and we all know nobody cares about golf…” He scoffs.

“Lots of people care about golf, Lou.” Jay replies.

“You sound like Niall now.” He rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Who’s Niall?” She frowns.

“Oh, right. A new friend-ish. Acquaintance. Really nice Irish lad- obsessed with golf.” He tells her.

“Have you finally got yourself a friend who isn’t Cara, then?” His mother jokes. “How is she, by the way? And why isn’t she here? I miss her!”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Louis replies monotonously and gets up to pour himself some tea. “Cara had to stay in London, she and  Harry had a thing. Harry’s her…”

“Beard.”

“Well. She’s- _his_.”

And the only reason Louis is telling his mother this is because Harry told him he could. Louis won’t say a word to any of his siblings, but his mom is his _mom_. Louis doesn’t keep stuff from his mom.

“Really? Harry Styles is gay? Who would’ve thought…?” She says unimpressed.

“Why aren’t you surprised?” He chuckles and sits at the table again, sipping from his tea.

“I raised you, Louis, my gaydar is pretty good.”

“Mom, don’t say gaydar, it’s weird when it comes from you.”

“Why, Tomlinson?”

“Because it is.” He laughs. “But yeah- and H is… He’s great. Met Niall through him, actually. He’s Harry’s handler. Which reminds me…” Louis fishes his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture of the cake on the table.

**I’m home** ** _._** He sends Harry and Cara.

Then he texts Ashton, too, letting him know he arrived safely.

Harry’s the first one to reply. Of course.

**_That cake looks too good. Now I’ll have to bake myself one_** **.**

**Aaaand he bakes** , Louis replies and doesn’t notice that he is smiling at his phone. **What can’t you do, Styles?**

**_Come out_** **.** Harry replies quickly.

**Ouch.**

**_Have fun with your mom. Send her my best. Thank her for having birthed you._**

**I won’t say that last part.**

**_:(_**

Louis sighs.

“Harry asked me to _thank you_ for _having birthed_ me.” He lets her know and watches his mother smirk. His mother doesn’t _smirk_ , it’s weird. “What?”

“Are you dating him, Louis Tomlinson? Is Cara a beard for the both of you to have a relationship?” Jay squints her eyes.

“Wha- mom, _no_. God, no!” He chuckles, only a bit uncomfortable. “We’re good friends, ‘s all.”

“Mhmmm…”

“Mom, I’m seeing someone, and I promise it isn’t Harry.”

**_Did you really not say it?_** Harry asks via text. Louis looks at his screen fondly.

**I did. Now she thinks you’re my secret boyfriend.**

“Who is it then?”

“A guy named Ashton. We’re not exclusive or anything…” Louis explains. “But he’s nice and… We’re seeing where it’s going, I guess. He’s not from here.”

“Where is he from?”

“Australia. He’s staying for a bit, though…”

**_Would you look at that?_** Louis can practically see a lopsided grin on the actor’s face. **_I would be a great son in law, but your honor belongs to another man. How shall I live now?_**

“You’re ridiculous”, Louis laughs lightly, and doesn’t notice he’s saying it out loud.

“Sorry, what?” His mom frowns.

**My honor belongs to** ** _myself_** **. What a retrograde thought for someone who lives in the 21** **st** **century, Harold.**

“Shit- sorry, mom, was talking to-” _embarrassing, really_ “- my phone.”

“Harry.”

“Yeah.”

“Your _friend_. Because you’re seeing a guy named _Ashton_.” Jay confirms and gets up, raising only one eyebrow.

Louis knows exactly where she is going with this line of thought. It’s not like he hasn’t _noticed_ some things over the last couple of weeks, it’s just that he’s avoiding them because he can’t, for the life of him, cogitate anything past what he is doing in life right now.

“It’s… It’s complicated.” He chooses to tell her.

“I don’t see anything complicated.” His mother responds.

“What d’you see?”

“I see you using the Ashton guy as a distraction. One that isn’t working very well.” She says and pours them more tea.

**_You’re right, I’m sorry._** This message comes attached with a picture of a pouty face, and- what the hell is Louis doing?

The journalist sighs and doesn’t reply to Harry _or_ his mother, changing the subject instead. He asks her about work and life and how the girls have been.

After everything that’s happened in their lives, stability is something everyone craves – at least everyone who was old enough to understand whatever was happening back then, the mess Louis’ father put them in.

Jay remarried and got a new job a few years back – she’s not the powerful lawyer she used to be, but she works for a decent firm in town and they make an acceptable amount of money, enough to keep them afloat. They sold the house they used to live in, so it helped pay their debts for a while. It guaranteed the girls’ school tuitions, too.

Charlotte is on her way to uni now, and one of Louis’ main goals is to pay for it. It’ll be tight, but they’ll make it. They always do. She wants to study _chemistry_ of all things, something about wanting to know more about how cosmetics are made and wanting to build her own company. She’s a visionary, Louis reckons.

Fizzy’s fifteen and very smart for her age. Sometimes too smart. By his understanding, she’s also started dating, and Louis honest to God doesn’t know how he feels about it. Not when both Phoebe and Daisy – _who are thirteen_ – already had their first kiss, too.

Louis Tomlinson feels _old_ , so he hangs onto the smallest twins; these ones are still three. He can still breathe.

They make it to dinner a bit late, Louis being too lazy to get off of the couch and Jay too slow in the shower, but eventually they’re there and Louis feels warmth all over. It’s like he _needed_ to be here, with those people.

“Loves of my life!” He says happily, as he sits at the table. “One at a time, please, tell me how you are doing…” Louis asks pretending he’s some kind of celebrity. Among his younger siblings, he sure as hell feels like one.

They all adore him, is the thing, but Louis has worked hard for the title of _Best Brother in the Entire Freaking World_ , so he receives the attention with big smiles and soft eyes, listening attentively to all of his sisters’ stories, trying to memorize all the names they’re telling him.

The night is great. Louis feeds Doris her food and Ernest dessert, because they both get the same level attention for being so young. On the way home, he promises both Daisy and Phoebe that the next day will be theirs for them to do whatever they want, but for tonight, Lottie and Fizzy – the oldest – have his attention.

Louis loves all of his siblings equally, but he _is_ closer to the oldest ones, inevitably. They were there for and with him when things got really dark. Like he said, they understood it better alongside him, even if they didn’t understand _everything_.

He’s created a different kind of bond with Lottie and Fizzy, Lottie specifically, and when they cuddle on the couch after he talks to Ashton on the phone as soon as he gets home, Louis feels tired but in a good way. Today was a busy day for him, too many people talking, too many emotions at once, but fuck if he hadn’t missed it.

“So, you have a boyfriend.” Charlotte and Louis say at the same time.

Fizzy laughs.

“Go on first”, Louis asks.

“It’s pretty new”, his sister shrugs. “His name’s Tommy, he’s a year older and we’re… In love, I guess.” She blushes. Oh my God, she’s the cutest thing.

“Aaaaaaaaaaawn”, he jokes. “That’s adorable.”

“Shut up, you tit.” She throws a pillow at him. “And you too, Félicité, don’t you dare!” Lottie glares.     

“I’m not gonna roast you because when I get a girlfriend I don’t wanna have to go through this.” The fifteen year old rolls her eyes.

“Hey, congrats on your coming out, by the way.” Louis squeezes her arm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“It’s okay; you gave me the courage to do it over the phone… Not that I thought mom would care much considering, well, _you_.” She chuckles.

“Mom told me that now at least she’d have a daughter-in-law, and then laughed like it was the best joke ever. Was funny.” Louis shares with them.

“Maybe I’ll have more than one, we don’t know how the two sets of twins will turn out…” Johanna says coming down the stairs after tucking the littlest ones to bed.

She sits right beside Charlotte, playing with her hair.

“You really don’t care, do you mom? If we turn out gay, straight or anything in between…” Félicité asks, an easy smile on her face. On all of her faces.

“As long as you’re all happy and not hurting anyone, why should anything else matter?” Jay asks. “You’re my children. I just want you to love and be loved.” They do not tear up. _None of them_. Especially _not_ Louis. “Did Lots tell you she has a boyfriend, Lou?’

“Oh. We were talking about him…” He laughs and pokes his sister to keep speaking.

Then it’s his turn, then Fizzy’s turn, and then finally _Mom time_. It’s good that they’re all this honest with each other. When Louis talks about himself, he feels good. He thinks he’s in a good place in life right now, and he’s got so many great people that it’s like the “dark period” never happened.

Louis takes a deep breath and appreciates being right here, right now, and for a fraction of a moment he doesn’t think about Harry. He doesn’t even remember _there is_ a Harry. And somehow, in a way that Louis doesn’t understand, it feels like healing. From what, he has no idea. But it’s like his body’s already preparing itself to take care of an impact that hasn’t even happened yet.

Or maybe it has. Maybe Louis is still in denial.

“Hey, ma, can I talk to you for a second?” Louis knocks on her bedroom door. “I know I’ll be here for a week still, and today’s been… Full, but- I need to say something.”

“Okay, baby.” Jay looks at him.

“I’m not in love with Ashton.” He states. “Like- the kind of love Lottie was talking about downstairs, that gives you butterflies and stuff… I’m not. Maybe I’ll feel this way down the line, I don’t know him very well yet, but- I’m not using him to get over Harry either.”

“Lou?”

“You were teasing me earlier, about it. You said I was dating Ashton but who I really wanted to be dating was Harry.” Louis clarifies. “I’ve thought about it.” He confesses. “But that is not why. I _really_ like Harry, yes, and when I met him-” He takes a deep breath. “When I met him I noticed right away that Harry was… _Is_ one of those people you simply can’t avoid falling for.”

“Louis…”

“He’s awesome, mom. But this… _Us_ thing? It’s not gonna happen. For many reasons that I can’t list right now.” He grimaces. “He’s my friend, though. Now _Ashton_ … Ashton is who I’m dating. And he makes me laugh, and he makes me feel special and stupid sometimes. I am trying with him for me. Okay?”

His mom only stares at him for a few seconds, and then she nods, exhaling a soft breath.

“Okay, baby.” She smiles. “Best of luck with Ashton.”

“Thanks, mom.” Louis hesitates only for a second before he strides into the room and hugs her tight. “G’night.” He whispers.

“Night, boo bear.”

“Oh, God…” Louis chuckles.

 

-

 

He gets back to London on a rainy Sunday, and goes straight to Ashton’s apart-hotel, as he promised he would the night before. He lets his other friends know he’s in town, but turns his phone off the rest of the night so he can spend time with the photographer.

 

“Miss me?” Louis asks softly as they sit on the bed to share room service dinner.

“You know that I did.” Ashton smiles, and Louis smiles back, and he feels okay. He really does.

 

-

 

Ever since they met, tonight is the first night Harry calls and, instead of a warm "hello, Hazz", it goes straight to voicemail.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I KNOW... slow burns blablabla, but, sit tight. There's some real Larry shit coming for you. And then some real shit. And then, at some point, I promise, things get real good.
> 
> All the love in the entire world,  
> Mel xx <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, there! Long time no see.
> 
> I should tell you that my laptop DIED for three days, and then came back to life after I had a PROPER FREAK OUT thinking that I'd lost everything!
> 
> This chapter is more of a prelude for everything that is about to happen - lots of Larry light angst + kind of making out coming!!! Hope you like it anyways.
> 
> :D

Harry has no idea of how he wound up here. Last thing he remembers he was having dinner with Lou Teasdale and her husband, after having his hair trimmed by her, and deciding to go out for a drink by himself at a pub nearby.

        He doesn’t know if he’s “nearby”, but he’s definitely at a pub, if the hardwood bar counter and the beer smell are anything to go by. Not that Harry is drinking beer, no. Tonight he decided to go straight to the hard stuff because the more he thinks about his life at the moment, the more he wants to forget who he is and what he is doing.

        In fact, Harry has _no_ idea of what he’s doing.

        He’s never been a problematic movie star. He never did drugs, never embarrassed himself at industry parties – can’t say much for private ones – and never got into a fight with anybody he’s ever come across, no matter how douche-y the person might have been.

        Still, he is lost. He is lost within himself. His career is intact, and he’s pretty sure he’ll hear back soon enough from the producers and directors he sent audition videos a week or so ago; he’s been seeing friends – or acquaintances – regularly and has been talking more with his mom.

        Supposedly, Harry has nothing to complain about. Yet there’s this tightness in his chest that won’t leave him – no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that he is okay, he doesn’t really care. A tightness that only goes away when Louis is close, making jokes with him and laughing at the most stupid ones.

        So Harry drinks. He drinks until he forgets, only to remember again and down just one more glass. One more glass and he’ll be all right.

        “I guess you’re done for the night, movie star.” The girl behind the bar tells him.

        “Great, you know who I am.” He groans. “This will be the first time I’ll end up drunk in the rags.” Harry swallows the rest of his whiskey. “Guess there’s a first time for everything after all.” He smirks as he places the glass in front of him.

        “I won’t tell if you don’t.” She winks.

        “I like you.” He smiles. “What’s your name?”

        “Michelle.”

        “Michelle.” Harry repeats. “Keep my secret, Michelle?”

        “Sure.”

        “I’m drinking to forget someone.” He fake-whispers.

        “Uh- must be a really stupid person if they don’t want you back.” Michelle The Bartender sighs as she says.

        “No, he- he’s amazing.” The actor smiles. “I was just too slow to catch up with my feelings.”

        “He…?” She raises an eyebrow. “Guess I’ll be keeping two secrets tonight then.”

        “Good thing you’re good at it.” Harry winks and the girl chuckles.

        “Tell you what, Harry Styles. I’ll give you one more shot if you let me call someone to take you home right after that.”

        He thinks this proposal over as if the wrong decision could change the course of everything. Well. Maybe it could. The universe works in mysterious ways.

        Slowly, he slides his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it.

        “Two more shots. Then you call Niall Horan. It might be spelled with a W before the H, just so you know.” Harry chuckles a bit dizzy already, vaguely remembering the day Louis changed Niall’s surname on everyone’s phone.

        “Niall _Whoran_ , got it.” Michelle smiles and pours two more shots in front of Harry, and Harry decides he really likes his pub.

 

-

 

        Niall is really unhappy when he drags Harry into the car through the backdoor of the establishment, and the actor never thought he’d see his handler this angry, not with how he’s always this big ball of glee. Here’s to learning something new: everyone is capable of losing their shit if the right buttons are pressed.

        For Niall, one of these buttons seems to be when _idiot, entitled movie stars make up their minds to act on their idiocy._

        “Was just drinking, Niall.” Harry mumbles from the passenger seat. “Just drive me home.”

        “Inconsequential, stupid, stupid, stupid. I never thought you’d be such an idiot, Styles.” Niall keeps saying as he rushes through some empty London streets.

        Harry must sleep at some point, because his handler shoves his shoulder as soon as they’re at his building’s parking garage, telling him to get the hell up and walk on his own two legs because Niall sure as hell ain’t carrying him all the way upstairs. The actor thinks this is the first time he’s setting foot in Niall’s flat and the fact that his sister might’ve been here already is only a bit unsettling.

        He manages to get into a room and throws himself on the bed, not even taking a piece of clothing off. Niall doesn’t do anything either, just says he’ll knock on the door at eight am and Harry better be awake…

        Which. Well. Doesn’t happen.

        But no news there.

        “Wake up, Harry.” Niall shakes him as he comes to.

        “Time’s it?” The actor mumbles, eyes still closed.

        “Eight ten. There’s stuff in the shower for you, get ready and come to the kitchen. You’re welcome.”

        The Irishman still sounds bitter, so Harry only says _thank you_ quietly and ignores his pounding headache when he enters the ensuite, avoiding the mirror and taking off his clothes so he can step into the shower.

        As the water washes away Harry’s body, it also helps him remember last night. Or, well, the shit he got himself into last night. Harry knows he is in the wrong and that he was careless, to say the least. Niall has every right to scream at him, but when the actor makes his way to the kitchen and his handler actually _does it_ , something happens – something inside of Harry making him kind of burst out in anger, too.

        “I went out to get drunk, Niall, it’s hardly World War III.” Harry dismisses his lecture.

        “But it _is_ , you dumb ass!” Niall complains as he passes him the bread. “Don’t you see how stupid you were? I had to get that girl’s number just so I’ll have a way to contact her and make her sign a NDA later today.”

        “No need, she said she wouldn’t say anything I told her.”

        “Yes, because we trust bartenders, they clearly aren’t the first ones to talk when papers like _The Sun_ offer them just enough money.” He rolls his eyes. “What the fuck, Harry? I told you that I’d help you if you wanted to get laid, but-”

        “I didn’t want to _get laid_ , Niall, I wanted to _get drunk_. And I did. Now pass me the fucking butter, please.” Harry says.

        “No. You don’t get to be mad today. _You_ get to pull yourself together, take a painkiller and have lunch with Cara at midday thirty.”

        “I had nothing scheduled for today.”

        “Now you do.” Niall shrugs.

        “ _Why?_ ”

        “Damage control.”

        “There wasn’t any damage.” Harry replies.

        “Punishment, then, for dragging me out of my bed at ass o’clock at night  and pulling a stunt like that.”

        “No. Stunt is what you’re gonna make me do this afternoon.”

        “I don’t make the rules, Harry, I just play by them. It’s time you acknowledge that, don’t you think?” Niall sighs. “I’ve tried to be your friend and it clearly didn’t work, because you won’t fucking believe my intention. So go ahead and think whatever you want to think of this” he gestured between the two of them, “but next time you want to go out to try to get over Louis Tomlinson, you call somebody else to pick you up.”

        “I wasn’t-” Harry stops. Decides not to correct him. Instead, he says: “if I called you, it is because I already sort of consider you my friend.”

        They both sigh at the same time. Niall finishes eating his breakfast and drinking his juice and Harry’s just starting. His handler gives in, eventually, and talks back to him in a calmer tone.

        “I’m thinking of asking your sister to be my girlfriend.” He lets out. “I know it’s only been a month, and I know you think this was all just a joke, but I really like her.” Niall tells him. “I’m not asking for your permission, this is not it. I’m just saying it, because-” Niall sighs. “Because a friend would.”

        Harry stops eating to answer.

        “Well, this escalated quickly.” Harry chuckles. “I think you and my sister would make a lovely couple. _If_ she says yes…”

        “Now is the time you reassure me, Harry.” Niall presses.

        “It’ll be okay, Niall.” The actor laughs.

        Niall smiles back at him and studies his face for a little while, squinting his eyes.

        “You’re still going out with Cara for lunch.”

        “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Harry says dramatically. “And- thanks. For picking me up.”

        “I would say _anytime_ , but actually-”

        “I’ll be more careful. It was a bad night.” He tells him. “I’m still learning how to deal with some stuff.”

        “D’you feel like you missed your chance?” Niall asks him nonchalantly, and yet Harry is thankful for that. He’s also thankful for the fact that his handler doesn’t mention Louis’ name again.

        “Kinda.” And yes… Harry kinda does.

 

-

 

        As it turns out, everyone seems to want to talk about Louis today. Cara tells him a long ass story about her childhood and guess who is the main character? A certain Louis Tomlinson, who was there for every up and down much like he had already told Harry.

        Today’s tale is about a swimming class and how she almost drowned in Louis’ pool when she tried to show him she could do whatever she had learned in class that week.

        “It was horrible and Louis’ mom screamed at him for almost half an hour because she thought he had challenged me… And when I cut in to say it was actually _my_ stupid idea, Louis didn’t let me and took the fall anyways.” She laughs and sips from her drink. “We were really stupid kids. I don’t know how Jay put up with us.”

        “She sounds really great…”

        “Better than my own mother, for sure.” Cara agrees. “When Louis’ dad- oh. Sorry, uh.”

        “He told me. About his dad. If you wanna keep going.” Harry encourages.

        “Yeah, uh- When Louis’ dad was arrested” the mode speaks lowly, “she showed such strength… She’s one of my role models, for sure.”

        “I can imagine.”

        Then Harry tells her a story about his mom and his childhood, one he’s told Louis already too, and somehow this conversation leads to a concert they all attended a few years back and Harry had no idea.

        All in all, it isn’t too bad. Cara’s always a good person to go out with, and if he ignores all the cameras, clicking around them while they make their way to a car that is there to pick them up, Harry can almost pretend this was just an encounter between two friends who decided to meet to catch up.

       

        “Hey, H-” Cara calls before she exits the car when they finally arrive at her place, “I know for a fact that Louis hasn’t told Ashton about the things with his dad.” She smiles.

        “And…?”

        “And… It means something that he told you.” She shrugs. “Hang in there.” The model winks and then she’s out.

       

        Harry isn’t even home yet when the pictures of his “date” hit the internet. There are many fans _shipping_ him and Cara, but the ones who aren’t just keep trying to prove time and time again how fake his relationship with the model is. Amongst lots of comments, Harry catches one on his twitter mentions that really calls his attention, it says: _@Harry_Styles is only dating Cara so he can be around her fit best friend, I bet._

        And, well, they are very, very wrong. Except that, at this point, maybe they aren’t.

 

-

 

        It’s almost twenty four hours later that Harry finally manages to set foot in his own flat, and, to his surprise, Gemma’s right there on his couch, waiting for him with a smile on her face and Chinese food on her lap, watching some crappy television.

        Harry kisses her head and then makes b-line to the bathroom. He takes another shower and washes this entire day off, his head still pounding – it hasn’t stopped since he woke up, even with the painkiller Niall gave him, and it’s driving him mad. He spends more than fifteen minutes under the shower head, and the only reason he doesn’t soak in his bathtub right now is because he’s too lazy to prepare a bath for himself.

        Harry dries his body slowly, not wanting to rush anything. Today was pretty rushed in itself. He knows Gemma is out there because Niall’s sent her, he knows she’ll want to talk and he _knows_ she’ll mention Louis too. And Harry’s too emotionally exhausted to talk about him one more time - even though he knows that, with his sister, he’ll be more honest than with anybody else.

        “Food?” His sister offers once he steps into the living room again.

        “No, thanks.” He replies. “Am a bit full.” Harry sags into the couch. “How was your day?” He forces a smile.

        “Good. Worked a lot. Think I’m gonna get some new clients next semester…”

        Then it hits Harry: they’re already in June. It’s officially been three months since he started his new _stunt_. Three months since he met _him_.

        Harry’s face changes immediately, and his sister catches it, because there isn’t a thing about Harry that Gemma doesn’t know.

        “Anything you wanna talk about?” She asks. “Like the fact that Niall had to collect you from a bar last night…?”

        “Do we have to?” Harry moans.

        “Only if you want to.” Gemma takes a bite of her food and looks down, giving him an out to look away as well.

        “I’ve been told that I have a thing for Louis.” The actor tries to joke.

        “By whom?”

        “My handler. My beard. Myself.”

        “Oh. It’s weird though, H, because-” she chews, “I could’ve sworn he had a thing for you too. When we all met.”

        “I think he did. Like- physical attraction. We both know we were- are? I don’t know, attracted to each other.” Harry voices. His sister frowns like she’s asking for an explanation. “But it was too early, I didn’t want to hook up for the sake of it, it could get messy, especially if this thing with Cara worked and we kept doing it…”

        “Okay…”

        “So we just- didn’t. _I_ didn’t say anything. It wasn’t worth it, and I could get off with Nick or- whoever.”

        “But now you like him.” Gemma states.

        “Now I do.” He sighs. “And he has someone.”

        “They’re not exclusive or anything, are they?”

        “Not that I know of. But- it’s still messy, Gems.”

        “Still not worth it?” She raises an eyebrow, questioning him.

        Harry doesn’t know. And he tells her so.

        It’s only been three months, after all.

 

-

 

        Harry’s not a person who whines.

        Well, maybe he _is_ , but he isn’t a person who _likes_ to whine. Still, that’s exactly what he does when he receives a text from Louis himself, two days later, inviting him to have dinner with him and Cara. And Ashton.

        **_Thought it’d be nice. No paps. Just a friendly dinner. What do you say, movie star?_**

He even adds a winky face. Louis has just sent him a winky face and he wasn’t even flirting.

        Jesus.

        **What time?** He asks. Because being friends is always better than nothing, he reckons, and Harry isn’t about to spend _another_ night wallowing in his newfound misery.

        **_Seven pm works?_**

**Sure. I can pick you guys up. Am taking some time from drinking.**

**_All right, Styles. We’ll all be waiting at Cara’s fake-house then. Just in case somebody follows you._**

        **See ya.**

 

-

 

        When he looks back, a few hours from now, Harry is going to realize that this might be the worst idea he’s ever had. But, as it is, he gets ready for a night out with good food and good company, and even shoots Niall a text informing him that he’ll be out without a bodyguard, but lets his handler know about his whereabouts.

        Niall replies that he’s a proud father. And then sends a pic with Gemma, both smiling with thumbs up.

        **That’s- just- wrong.** Harry types and then laughs it off.

        What even is his life?

        He gets to Cara’s “fake-house” a little bit after seven, and he is even excited about it, if only a bit apprehensive.

        Ashton is nice, is the thing. Harry really didn’t want to like him, but he’s already stated that he is a good person and a good person is exactly what Louis deserves. Ashton seems to be a lot better than _Harry_ is, so. There’s that.

       

        “How are you, H?” Cara asks as soon as she gets into the car, her black dress matching Harry’s black outfit.

        A part of him thinks that if there are any paps outside the restaurant, they’ll have a field day. Harry and Cara look hot together, and they know it. Too bad none is interested in the other. The actor laughs mentally and kisses her cheek.

        “Good, how are you?”

        “Hungry.”

        “We’ll eat in an instant, you animal.” Louis says loudly getting in the back of the car. “Hiya, Harry!” He smiles.

        “Hi, Lou. Hi, Ashton!” He smiles from the driver’s seat.

        “Nice to see you again, Harry.” The man also offers him a smile and… Yes, maybe tonight will go okay.

        It does. Go okay, that is. For the most part anyways.

        Harry leaves the car on the sidewalk where a valet takes the key from his hand and the actor thanks him politely before putting a hand around Cara’s waist, right after seeing a pap a few meters away. Louis turns around to comment on it and misses a step. Next thing they all know, the journalist is falling face forwards to the ground, and there’s no stopping them from laughing when they all realize someone is out there with a camera immortalizing the moment.

        “Oh my God, are you hurt?” Cara asks, still laughing a lot.

        Louis sits on the ground and stares at them very mad, and Harry moves to help him before anyone can take more pictures, but then Louis- oh, Louis refuses his help like an angry kitten and says he’ll do it by himself. He tries to get up once and fails miserably.

        “Jesus!” Harry hides another laugh behind his hands and looks at Ashton to go and try to help him. Louis refuses it too.

        “Stop being ridiculous, Lou.” Ashton rolls his eyes.

        “I have some dignity left, I can do it by myself.”

        “You don’t have _any_ dignity left.” Cara says. “I’m going in, I don’t know a Louis Tomlinson…” She muses.

        Harry and Cara are talking about the frames they’re gonna put on Louis’ pap pictures once they have them developed when the journalist and photographer finally get to their table. Ashton is still chuckling and Louis seems to be trying not to.

        “I just wanted to say”, Ashton starts “that Louis missed another step and hit his face on the glass door. But I didn’t let him fall this time.”

        They all laugh, once again.

        “The hell’s happening to you?” Cara asks. “Harry’s the one with no balance.”

        “This, my sweet fake girlfriend, is _karma_.” Harry fake-whispers. “And karma is a bitch.” The actor winks at Louis.

        “I hate you all.” Louis mumbles. “I’m just hungry and weak.” He says.

        “I’m gonna talk about this forever.” Harry says before he can control himself, but the journalist already has an answer on the tip of his tongue.

        “You won’t _be_ around forever if you keep mentioning this. I’ll kill you before you can say anything ever again.” Louis warns him.

        “Oh, because I am _so_ scared of the mighty Louis Tomlinson and his five foot figure.” Harry jokes.

        “Five foot nine, thank you very much.”

        “Keep telling yourself that…” The actor muses. “You’re one head shorter than me.”

        “You’re a giant, there’s a difference.” He replies.

        “Don’t worry, Lou, you’re perfect to me.” Ashton kisses him on the cheek and Harry immediately has to look away.

        He and Louis weren’t flirting, no. They were _bantering_. And even though Louis frowned and looked sad, Harry knows he was just pretending to be soft. Because, oh, well, because Harry knows what Louis is like when he’s being sad _and_ soft for real.  Shit.

        He averts his gaze from the couple as Louis turns to Ashton and pecks his lips, and doesn’t look back until Cara pulls him back into the conversation, mentioning a campaign she needs to shoot next month in freaking Australia. Harry _so_ doesn’t want to go to Australia that he is already thinking of what to say in order for his management to let him stay here.

        The actor smiles anyways and hears the story of how _Louis and Ashton_ actually met in Australia last year, and, if anything, he is happy that they’re hitting it off. They don’t look very _in love_ , but they look happy nonetheless, and that has to be enough for now.

        The food is actually good. Harry likes this place a lot, even if it’s a very famous one. When Louis said _no paps_ , he was probably referring to the ones Harry’s and Cara’s teams always hire for them, which, in this case, it’s already _something_.

        It all feels very friendly until Cara mentions she has a friend in town.

        “Are you seeing anyone, Harry?” She asks. “I mean- I know there’s Nick, but-”

        “He’s not with Nick anymore.” Louis intervenes before Harry himself can say anything.

        “Oh. Didn’t know that. Well. Anyone, then?” The model repeats the question.

        “Why?” He asks back.

        “I have this Russian friend in town with whom I might be working for a while, and- like, it’d be easy if you… Wanted to.”

        “Wanted to what?” He smirks.

        Ashton laughs too. Louis seems to have fire in his eyes.

        “Oh, come fucking on, are you talking about Elisey?” Her best friend turns to her.

        “Yes!”

        “He’s not Harry’s type.”

        “How do you know my type?” The actor raises an eyebrow and laughs.

        “Aren’t models everyone’s types anyways?” Ashton asks. “Pull up a picture, Cara, let’s see Harry’s future conquest.”

        “It’s not like that.” Harry nods and looks down, smiling sheepishly.

        He doesn’t really know _what_ it’s like. Just that it’s not- that.

        Everyone seems to have a dirty perspective of him. And when Harry says _everyone_ , he’s not even talking about the media exclusively or some of his fans. People from his actual inner circle have the idea that Harry Styles will sleep with anyone who is remotely interesting and fit.

        And maybe that is true. Maybe Harry sleeps around a lot, with different people, but _so fucking what?_ He’s young, hot, single, and it’s not like people stick around him for longer than this. It’s not like he deserves it anyways.

        It’s not funny at all how fucked up his mind is, how it was when he was growing up and how it only got worse with time. He has some real abandonment issues after all, and while he recognizes it, he doesn’t really know how to make it go away – not when no one who isn’t obligated to really stays, or tries harder to break his walls than he does to put them up.

        It’s just- it’s not for the conquest. It’s for the constant assurance that “this, too, shall end”. No matter what _this_ is. Because nothing really lasts. People always freaking leave. Whether you want them to or not.

       

        “Look, this is him.” Cara shoves her phone to his face. “What do you think?”

        “He’s hot.” Harry shrugs. “But then again, he’s a model. They’re hot by default, Ashton’s right.”

        At that, the Australian photographer raises his wine glass and smiles, drinking right after. Louis is quieter than he’s ever been.

        “Am I allowed to introduce you then?” She smiles, her eyes shining.

        “Sure. But don’t say anything to him beforehand…” The actor asks. “He has to at least be nice… So… Let’s see.”

        “Hot and nice. Not a very strong criteria, is it, Harold?” Louis snorts and drinks again.

        Coming from anyone else, it would be normal. He’s accustomed to it. Coming from Louis, it kinda sits with him the wrong way – stings a bit. Louis thinks Harry is easy, too.

        “You’re hot and nice.” Ashton says to Louis. “It’s not a bad combination after all…” He muses and Louis kisses him once again, this time with full force, much less appropriate than Harry would’ve thought he ever would in a public space. But oh well.

        Cara, under the table, squeezes Harry’s thigh. And he wishes he could say he didn’t need the comfort, but he really, really does.

 

-

 

        “So, who am I dropping off first?” Harry asks back in the car.

        His friends – can  Harry say Ashton is a friend? – are somewhat tipsy, but happy. Cara asks to be left at a hotel, where her girlfriend is waiting for her and Ashton says his place is on the way…

        “… So if you could kindly leave me there?” He asks.

        “Sure, no problem.”

        “You staying with me?” The actor hears Ashton asking Louis.

        “No, I- I’ll have an early morning, kinda need my bed.” He responds.

        Harry knows for a fact Louis won’t have an early morning tomorrow. But okay.

        The worst part of tonight comes now.

        Harry’s been antsy since Cara mentioned Elisey and Louis made that comment, but now that there are only the two of them in the car, the journalist doesn’t even try to be nice to him. He jumps to the passenger seat and doesn’t look at Harry for what it feels like a long time.

        It’s only when they’re approaching Louis’ street that the actor voices his thoughts.

        “You know…” Harry starts. “I find comfortable silence so overrated…” He trails.

        “You know…” Louis turns to him. “I slept with Elisey. Once or twice. Or ten times.”

        “Oh.” The actor replies, if only a bit shocked.

        “Okay.”

        “Fucks real good. Don’t know if he’s up to your standards, but he passed my quality test…” He smirks.

        “Okay.” The actor doesn’t spare him a look.

        “Just thought you should know. You already have my best friend as a beard, and go running in the morning with my other best friend. It’s only fair that you’ll sleep with somebody I’ve already slept with too.”

        “I don’t know if I’m going to sleep with him.”

        “Course.” Louis chuckles.

        “What is that supposed to mean?” Harry squints his eyes.

        “Nothing, Harry. Means nothing.” The journalist snaps.

        “I don’t get you.” He sighs, finally stopping in front of the other man’s building.

        “You’re not an easy person to get either.” Louis replies. “But I genuinely hope you enjoy Elisey. He’ll look good on your long list of _conquests_.”

        Two seconds pass, and then Harry speaks again.

        “I’m not easy to _get_ , I’m just easy, right?” He snorts. Louis’ silence is his confirmation. “You can leave the car now, Louis. Have a good night.”

        The worst part of the worst part, is that Louis leaves the car without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. They're not really fighting. But kinda are.  
> Two kids if you ask me.
> 
> Harry's starting to figure some stuff out, so, please, be patient with him - and with me.
> 
> I'm going to be traveling for the next two weeks, so unfortunately I won't be able to upadate soon. But please keep in mind that I'll always come back to you - as fast as I can.
> 
> Much love,  
> M.
> 
> Xxxxx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAN Y'ALL BELIEVE I'M FINALLY UPDATING THIS????  
> First of all, I'm sorry. I posted a comment on the last chapter explaining why it was taking me so long, but in case you didn't read that, here's why: my laptop broke down. Completely. Isn't working anymore. So I can only write when my dear mother or sister lets me borrow theirs - which is not always, cause they also have things to do. It sucks, I know, I'm working on it. But I. AM. WORKING. ON. IT. Promise :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter, there's finally some Larry action for you there :P

 

A week passes and Louis still hasn’t talked to Harry. It’s not like Harry has talked to him either, but he can admit that he should be the one going after him. The only problem is: Louis can’t find enough courage in him to do so, because he doesn’t even understand why he acted like that in the first place.

Louis knows he wasn’t fair. And he also knows that he hurt Harry unnecessarily and on purpose. He just can’t see a reason as to why he did it, therefore he feels embarrassed – and by feeling embarrassed he realizes what a coward he is, because he can’t even go apologize to his friend.

Friend. Yes. Now more than ever the journalist starts to notice how much of a friend Harry has become to him over the last few months, and Louis isn’t a person who has many friends. Sure he knows dozens of people and has many acquaintances, but when it comes to real friendship Louis is very limited to Cara and Liam, since everybody else left him when his money left too.

So yes, Louis misses Harry. He’s currently hanging out with Cara and Annie, and he’s just turned in his article for this Sunday column, so he hasn’t got much to do.

“So tell me, Tomlinson, how are you doing?” Annie asks for what it seems to be the third time if her eyes are anything to go by.

Cara’s girlfriend always does this; she doesn’t raise her voice, but her eyes do  _ a thing _ and Louis is very intimidated by it.

“I’m good, actually, thanks for asking, love.” He smiles at her.

“Jesus, good thing you’re not an actor.” She scoffs.

“No, he’s just moping because of one.” His best friend jokes and ruffles his hair.

“You haven’t talked to Harry yet?” 

“You told her?” He turns to Cara.

“As if I wouldn’t.” The model shrugs, still playing with the strands of his hair.

“’M not moping, I’m actually fine. You both just need someone to pity.” Louis pretends to be angry and the girls laugh. If anything, he’s just a little bit sad. And a little bit lonely.

Ashton has been working like crazy this week, so they haven’t really seen each other much, except for a booty call on Wednesday.

Louis honestly doesn’t know what he and Ashton are doing right now. He knows Ashton isn’t sleeping with anyone and Louis isn’t either, but he doesn’t know if it’s because they only want to be with each other or because they are each other’s best option right now.

The journalist likes to think it’s the first option. It’s what he wants to believe at least. But you never know. Louis has learned that, in this life, you should at least be cautious with anyone who seems too nice with you, which makes him think it’s weird that with Harry, specifically, he has never been.

 

“I need to clear my head, think I’mma go to Liam’s.” He says out of the blue, already getting up.

“Hey, grumpy, we won’t make fun of you for Hazz anymore, it’s fine.” Cara holds his hand, trying to make him sit again. Louis frowns at the  _ Hazz _ , he thought he was the only one to call Harry that.

“No, you guys are fine. I just- I haven’t talked to Liam in a while either, and- yeah.”

“Whatever you say, Lou.” The model muses. “Call me if you need anything?”

“Will do. You enjoy your down time.” He bends down and kisses her forehead, doing the same to Annie right after. “Take care of my girl.”

“Always do.” The singer replies. “AND SHE’S MINE…” She yells while laughing, when Louis starts to walk away.

“WHATEVER YOU SAY.” Louis shouts back and closes the door before a pillow is thrown his way.

 

-

 

He calls to Liam on the way to his house and tells him he’s picking up dinner, they’re gonna have a night in, and Liam has no say whatsoever in it. Liam simply replies with a thumbs up and Louis can’t help but wonder if Harry has told him his side of the story already. Are they friends enough for Harry to open up to him? Has Liam become Harry’s Louis this week? Is Louis bothered by it and why is the answer yes?

He opts for Chinese because nobody can go wrong with Chinese. To be quite honest, nobody can go wrong with  _ pizza,  _ but even Louis understands that one can’t have pizza every night of every week… No matter how much he sometimes wishes he could.

Louis checks his phone and decides to text Ashton and ask him if he’s all right, at least they can talk while he waits for the food to be ready.

**_Hey, Lou, just finishing up one shoot, am exhausted. Have to get up at four am tomorrow. How are you?_ **

**Am good, too. Heading to Liam’s now.**

**_Say hi for me._ **

**Will do. You gonna be free any time soon?**

**_Next week’s supposed to be a bit better. I plan on seeing you a lot more._ **

**That’s what I like to read.** Louis texts back. He’s not lying. He misses Ashton’s presence. He misses how Ashton makes him forget of other…Stuff.

They keep texting back and forth for five more minutes about a movie they both want to watch when Louis’ order is up and he can finally get out of there. 

The drive to Liam’s isn’t horrible afterwards, and when he gets there his friend has already opened him a beer and is waiting on the couch.

“I’m not drinking because I really have to watch my diet, even though it doesn’t seem like it. But you should have a few. Seems like you need it.”

“Why’s that?” Louis frowns.

“You look grumpy.” The footballer shrugs.

“Cara and Annie said the same thing.” He says as he moves around Liam’s kitchen separating their food. “Wait-” he turns around and squints his eyes, “did they say anything?”

“They didn’t have to.” Liam answers from the couch. “Harry’s been pretty grumpy all week, so I just thought- I mean, he didn’t say anything, but.”

“I was kind of a dick to him last week after we all had dinner together.”

“Hm.”

“He really didn’t say anything?” Louis asks bringing their plates to the living room and sitting on the floor.

Last time he ate on Liam’s couch it was a hot dog and he made a mess, so Liam forbid him from ever eating there again. Only popcorn is allowed. 

Louis is more comfortable on the floor anyways.

“No. Made something up about work but then I said your name and he just- flinched. So, two plus two and all that..” Liam eats. “This is good, Lou, thanks.”

“No problem, mate.”

“He also said you should tell me, cause I’m  _ your _ friend. He seemed very, I don’t know, sure about that… If only a bit hurt?”

“I told him he stole you from me.”

“Louis…”

“Among some very shitty stuff.”

“Why, though?”

“I don’t know. I got very angry with him for no reason, was a bit tipsy, but this is _not_ an excuse cause I was nowhere near being drunk, just- I don’t know, Liam.”

Liam looks at him for far too long. Louis thinks he takes three bites of his own food before his friend speaks again.

“You don’t know or you don’t want to admit?”

Louis lies to a lot of people, but he has never lied to Liam.

“I really don’t know. I am very, very confused.”

“About your feelings for him?”

“Do I even have feelings for him?” The journalist asks. “I don’t- I like Ashton.”

“Never said you didn’t”, Liam shrugs. “You have  _ some _ kind of feeling for him. Harry, I mean.”

“Yeah, but that’s because we connected from day one. It’s not- romantic.” Louis replies to Liam and it makes sense to him while he speaks.

Liam doesn’t seem very convinced, but he finishes chewing and answers him again.

“Whatever you say, mate. I’m not inside of your head or heart to know.” He says. “But you should make amends with H.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.” Louis promises.

His friend smiles and they proceed to talk about something else. Louis drinks just enough to feel loose and still be able to drive a few blocks to his flat, and once he gets there, at almost one am, after watching Batman – again – with his friend, he hits the bed and buries his face in the pillow, trying not to think about anything.

  
  


-

 

_ Tomorrow  _ comes way too quickly for Louis’ liking. He wakes up at ass o’clock in the morning for no apparent reason and cannot go back to sleep, no matter how much he tries.

Louis has a routine. Every morning he wakes up earlier than necessary just so he can spend more time in bed, but today he woke up even earlier than that - which is why he begins his day being grumpy. 

For a split second he thinks about going down to the bakery and having a healthy breakfast for once, something that isn’t the eggs on toast he has literally every day because he is horrible in the kitchen, but then again he thinks about what he has to do today and he feels like this will consume enough energy as it is.

_ Mom _ must be awake, so Louis calls her, needing somebody to talk to.

Jay picks up at the first ring.

_ “Are you okay?”  _ She asks a bit alarmed.

“Yes? Good morning, mother.”

_ “Shit, you scared me, Louis.” _

“Mom, you don’t curse.”

_“Well, when your son who doesn’t wake up early calls you at six am, you get a little bit nervous._ _ERNIE, GET DOWN FROM THERE RIGHT THIS SECOND.”_ She yells afterwards.

Louis chuckles.

“Sorry. Woke up an hour ago and couldn’t sleep, so I’d thought I’d call to chat, but you sound busy.”

_ “Doris has a fever, so she’s a bit grumpy. And if she’s awake, then your brother’s awake as well.” _

“Is this some kind of twin magic? Daisy and Phoebs were the same.”

_ “Must be.” _ She muses.  _ “So, any reason why you’d wake up this early?” _

“No idea. Even had a couple of beers with Liam yesterday.” He yawns. “I’m still sleepy, my mind just won’t shut off.”

_ “Maybe you’re anxious… Does it happen a lot?” _

“Not really? Sometimes.”

_ “It can be nothing, but let me know if it keeps happening, yeah? Maybe we could get you some sleeping pills.” _

“I’m sure it won’t get to that.” He calms her down. “Sorry for calling and worrying you. Just miss you.” Louis tells her truthfully.

_ “I miss you too, baby. Think you can visit soon?”  _ Jay asks.

“I’ll definitely try.” Louis smiles and then hears his mom talking to Ernest again. “Hey-  I’ll let you go. Say hi to everyone.”

_ “I- okay, I do need to go. Jesus. Too early.” _

“I’d say you should get a nanny, but I’ve been saying that since they were born…”

_ “I took care of you and your sisters just fine, Louis Tomlinson, I don’t need a nanny.” _

Louis knows enough about Jay not to comment that she’s a bit older now. He just laughs it off and says  _ good morning _ again, says he loves her, and he’ll call again soon.

Somehow, his day’s a lot better now. He replies to Cara’s text from last night and then goes online to check what’s going on. He has a ton of twitter mentions he overlooks, replying only to a couple from football fans asking his opinion on tomorrow’s match.

One thing catches his eye though and he’s sitting in bed before he can even finish reading the sentence. He had  _ completely _ forgotten he has a Golf tournament - of all things - to attend today, and as much as he loathes his boss for making him watch that, he gets into the shower and thanks the heavens for his internal clock being a bit screwed up.

 

-

 

“Louis Tomlinson!” The familiar voice calls him and before his brain can process who that is he is already receiving a tight, Irish hug.

“Niall.” He smiles over the man’s shoulder, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m a major golf fan, Louis, I’ve probably told you that.” Niall laughs and yes, it sounds vaguely familiar. Maybe he has.

“It’s all he talks about sometimes.” Another familiar voice and face is registred in Louis’ brain.

“Gemma.” He says, moving to hug her.

“Hi, Louis. How are you?”

“Bored already. But please don’t tell anybody.” The journalist fake-whispers and Harry’s sister laughs. 

“That makes two of us.” She all but shouts.

“A couple more months into this relationship and you’ll be a golf-lover, Gems, you just wait!” Niall kisses her cheek, pulling her close by the waist. “Wanna join us, Lou?”

Louis has a few journalist friends around, he’s sure, but he still accepts Niall’s invitation. If he has to spend the day watching a golf tournament and pretend to be interested enough to write about it, he might as well do it with someone really funny by his side; Louis is convinced that Niall and Gemma will make today a lot easier.

 

Throughout the day and afternoon he gets to know both Niall  _ and _ Gemma. They make a cute and strange couple at the same time - and Louis finds it’s because they seem like best friends who decided to give it a go. Strange isn’t necessarily bad, though. It’s just… Different.

Gemma tells him that the first time she agreed to go out with Niall was just to spite Harry, and she clearly wasn’t expecting to like him this much, and Niall goes  _ red _ instantly. It’s amazing to watch.

“Harry’s cool with it now.” Niall says.

“Thank fuck. I’ve never seen someone so protective.” Gemma laughs and drinks her lemonade.

Louis wants to say  _ it’s cute _ , but refrains from it. He kind of doesn’t want to keep talking about Harry while he and Harry aren’t speaking because he was an asshole. Most importantly, he kind of really doesn’t want Gemma and Niall to know that it’s been a week since they last spoke, although by the way the Irishman looks at him he might already be onto it.

If he is, he doesn’t give any more indication, and Louis is thankful for that. He spends the rest of the day semi-focused on the game and thinking about what he’ll say once he sees the actor tonight.

 

-

 

They let Louis up without asking anything. He’s been here enough for every doorman to recognize him, and he smiles despite himself for it.

But Harry isn’t home.

Louis doesn’t know why he expected him to be, since it’s a Friday night. He guesses maybe because their weekend plans have always been aligned since they started talking, before Ashton came up. 

He tries a key under the mat or something like that, but Harry must’ve finally listened to him and taken it out of there, because when Louis lifts the stupid-looking, banana patterned mat, there’s nothing there. 

Louis is a man on a mission, though, so he checks the clock and decides to sit there for however long his cell phone battery lasts. He pulls up his notes from earlier and decides to start organizing them, but can barely focus on it. So he just ends up playing a ridiculous game one of the twins put on his phone the other day - “it’s fun, Lou”, he can hear Daisy’s voice in his mind.

He doesn’t know for how long he sits there, he just knows that his battery is at 24% when the lift’s doors open and Harry stumbles on the corridor, hair disheveled and eyes a bit glassy. Lips very, very red.

“Hey.” Louis says, getting up from the floor.

The fact that he sat here for over two hours waiting for the actor to come back home should be an indication that Louis feels  _ something _ other than friendship for him, but it doesn’t. Instead, the second he started to have these thoughts, he just convinced himself that he’d do the same for Cara and Liam. And maybe he would. But this- this is different. The journalist doesn’t recognize it now.

“I was with him.” Harry says. A cocky smile on his face. “Elisey. Snogged him proper good downstairs… But maybe I should’ve asked him if I was as good as you.” He smirks.

“I came to apologize.” Louis says. “Even brought a peace offering.”

“Which is…?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know…?” Louis muses.

“You don’t get to be cheeky now, Louis. And you haven’t technically apologized yet.” Harry walks past him and unlocks the door to his flat. “Come in.” He invites the journalist.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How was your date?”

“Good. Like I said, we-”

“Snogged downstairs, heard the first time.” Louis finishes for him. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole last week. I have no idea where that came from.”

“Really?” Harry squints his eyes. “No idea?”

“No. I’m just an idiot for no reason at times.”

Harry’s eyes fall only for a second there. Then he sighs.

“I guess you are.” He shrugs. “Where is my peace offering?”

Very slowly, and with a knowing smile on his face, Louis takes two spliffs from his front pocket, and waves them in front of Harry’s face.

“You didn’t…” Harry starts smiling.

“Rolled them myself!” He smiles proudly.

“You little shit.” The actor cracks up a laugh. “I’m not even mad at you anymore.” He takes a spliff from Louis’ hand. “Please tell me you’ve got fire, I’m not a smoker.”

“I’ve got you.” Louis chuckles and hands Harry one. “You sure you don’t wanna get more comfortable?  You look very- dressed up.”

He looks gorgeous. But then again, he’s always gorgeous.

Harry gives Louis the spliff back and starts undressing right in the middle of the living room, and when he’s down to his pants he smiles big, takes the spliff again and moves to the couch.

“C’mon, Louieeeee, we have weed to smoke!” He says happily.

If Louis knew it’d be this easy, he would’ve been here a long time ago.

This is just who Harry is, though, isn’t it? This boy is incapable of holding a grudge. 

They start talking while sharing the first spliff and it’s like nothing ever happened.  Like Louis hadn’t called him a manwhore just a few days ago. Harry tells him stories of the week and how he’s excited about going back to work, though he still has a few more months of lying low before anything concrete happens.

Louis tells him he saw Gemma and Niall today and Harry’s eyes light up immediately. He was already a bit wine-drunk, Louis figures, and now that they’re smoking the actor seems even more loose. 

He goes on and on about his and Gemma’s childhood, and even though the journalist has  _ no _ idea of how they wound up talking about it, he finds himself very endeared by little Harry trying to cook his mom breakfast, and Gemma not letting him because he’d get himself burned… 

“But I had it under control. She tried to take the kettle off my hands and then I hurt myself. I think I still have a scar…” He points to his thigh. “Okay, it’s very small, but it hurt like hell back then.”

It’s very small. But Louis can see it.

“Was it a third degree burn then?”

“Course it was, Louis, the water was boiling!” Harry laughs very loudly when he says it, and Louis laughs with him.

Then he looks at Harry’s thigh again, trying to imagine six year old Harry crying for help and Gemma being useless and somehow he ends up seeing a cloud-shaped burn on Harry’s thigh. But he’s  _ sure _ it doesn’t look like a cloud. But it  _ could  _ be one, right? Clouds are shaped in such different forms. 

“Hazz, I think I’m high.” He ends up saying, chuckling into his hand. Harry’s finishing the second spliff now.

Louis’ tolerance used to be so much better.

“No.” Harry whispers. “You’re too small to get high.” Then he thinks, and seriously, Harry says: “you don’t get high, you get medium, Lou”.

Stupid, stupid, _stupidly_ _not funny_ boy.  Louis laughs softly and leans forwards to shut him up, putting a hand on Harry’s lips.

“You’re ridiculous, you’re not alowed to make jokes ever again.” The journalist laughs as he speaks, Harry coming way too close now. Or were they this close before? Louis doesn’t really know. What he  _ does _ know is that Harry’s every bit as pretty this close as he is a few meters away, or on TV, or anywhere really.

“You laugh at all my jokes”, Harry reasons.

“Because I pity you, movie star.” When did his voice get this soft? God, Louis is so stoned.

“Or because I’m very funny.” Harry laughs again, lower this time. 

“Nu-uh. Definitely not.” Louis answers and catches a loose strand of the actor’s hair. “D’you ever plan on cutting your hair?” He’s suddenly very serious. Harry’s hair should always be a serious matter seeing as it is as beautiful as the rest of the boy.

“Only if it’s needed for a movie. Why? D’you think I should?”

“Whatever makes you happy, Hazz.” He says. “You look stunning anyways.”

“‘M not stunning.” Harry looks down, cheeks flushed. 

“You are.”

“Well. You are even stunnier. More stunning? More stunnier. You’re the most stunniest of them all, Louis, I swear.” He smiles, but doesn’t dare look at him. Instead, his eyes are focused on Louis’ lips. And Louis- well, Louis commits the sin to look at Harry’s too. And he looks at the exact moment Harry’s licking them.

They’re closer now. Harry’s practically naked in front of him, and one of his hand’s magically in the nape of Louis’ neck now, his fingers playing with the short hair on his nape and Louis- Louis feels things. Like his whole body shivering, his skin tingling, his heart beating faster and his mouth touching Harry’s before his brain can catch up.

If Harry’s surprised by it, he doesn’t let it show. He whines low in his throat, and presses back. Somewhere in the back of Louis’ mind he is very aware that they should separate, like,  _ right the fuck now _ , but, instead, the journalist just brings one hand to Harry’s waist and squeezes it tentatively, trying to make sure that this so  _ not okay _ situation is okay with Harry too.

The actor buries his fingers in Louis’ hair and brings him closer. And were Louis more of a man, he’d act as an adult. But he’s not. He’s just weak, and high, and tired, and so hopelessly endeared by Harry Styles. He just needs to  _ know _ . Just this once. He thinks he deserves this.

They are both hungry for it, is the thing.

Their kiss starts soft and it only lasts three seconds before Harry’s prying Louis’ mouth with his tongue and Louis’ is letting him, falling back on the couch and enjoying the actor’s weight on him as Harry straddles his body. He kisses him with all he has, Louis does.

Both of his hands roam Harry’s naked back and find his hair as well, pulling the strands and making Harry turn his head to Louis’ own will - and Harry… Harry’s  _ so good _ . He draws back just enough to breathe and kisses the corner of Louis’ mouth rooting forwards, sitting right on Louis’ crotch.

“Jesus.” Louis says it as a curse, burying his face in Harry’s neck and kissing it there.

His skin is way softer than Louis could have ever imagined, and as he trails Harry’s neck with his tongue, he can feel rather than hear Harry’s low whines. It’s all in the way he moves, the way his fingers close around Louis’ biceps, the way he melts and goes rigid at the same time.

They kiss one more time and now Harry takes the lead; he pins Louis against the sofa and once again takes the journalist’s breath away. He goes in tongue first and Louis finds himself thinking that he didn’t know a  _ kiss  _ could be this good, cause so many reactions at the same time.

The pace slows down hours later, it seems. They’re now horizontal, and their fervent making-out session has turned into lingering, soft pecks. Louis notices a mark on Harry’s chest and wonders when he left it there; they got so, so lost in each other.

“Stay?” Harry asks softly, nose on Louis’ neck, mouth only half an inch away.

Louis swallows hard. How could he ever say  _ no _ ?

“Yes.” He replies.

Harry deposits a soft kiss on his neck. And they fall asleep together on the couch.

 

-

 

It’s the second time Louis wakes up earlier than he should, and he is  _ so. Damn. Pissed. Off _ . Except. Well. Except today’s different than yesterday, because-

“Fuck.” He complains. “Fuck, you  _ idiot _ , fuck!” Louis presses his eyes closed very strongly before opening them.

He manages to sit on the couch and runs his fingers through his hair, looking around to make sure he is where he thinks he is. His eyes land on Harry even before Harry realizes the journalist’s already awake.

There’s soft music playing in the kitchen and Harry’s dancing? Yes. He’s most definitely dancing while making breakfast and-

“Morning, Lou.” He smiles. It’s a bit uncertain, but it’s still a smile.

“Morning.” Louis manages to say.  _ I’m still dressed, good _ . He thinks.

Louis gets up and walks towards the kitchen, a bit unsure of last night’s happenings - or wanting to be unsure anyways. Harry’s hickey doesn’t lie, though. It’s still right there, right where it was before they went to sleep. Louis  _ can’t believe himself _ .

He is  _ never _ getting high again. Before he can help it, he jokes -  _ medium. I’ll never get medium again _ . Shit.

“Hey, Harry.” He walks towards him. “Good morning.”

It must be something in his face, because Harry’s expression changes immediately.

“You regret it.” Harry says incredulously.

“You don’t?” 

“I…”

“Harry.” Louis kind of implores. “I- we.”

“Shit, Louis.” Harry turns around and kills the music. He also turns off the stove. “Shit.”

“Hazz.” He calls him. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know… I thought…” Harry turns around. He looks lost. Louis hates himself.

“Thought what?”

“Last week. I thought you’d acted like a prick because you were jealous of me going out with someone else. The way I-” he holds his breath. “The way I was. Am. Of Ashton”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m clearly very stupid, so.”

“Harry, I’m sorry.” He pleads. “Ashton and I… We… I mean. I have someone, it isn’t… It isn’t right.”

“He’s not your boyfriend!” Harry says bitterly.

“Yet.” Louis shrugs. “He’s not my boyfriend yet.”

A minute or a millennium passes. 

And then:

“You kissed me  _ back _ , Louis.” The actor says. “Actually, scratch that-  _ you _ kissed me  _ first _ .”

“I know.” Louis looks down. “I’m sorry. We were- high. My mind wasn’t in the right place. And I never thought- You went out with Elisey, you’d just come back from a date, I didn’t… Harry, I’m sorry.”

“No. I mean, yes, eventually, I will… Forgive you, or whatever. But fuck, Louis…” He takes a deep breath and then looks up. “I need some space, okay? I really do.”

“Are you cutting me out of your life?”

The most egotistical part of Louis doesn’t want Harry to. The other understands it completely if he does.

“Not… Permanently. But I need my crush to fade.” He chuckles.

“You, movie star Harry Styles, have a crush on me.”

“Don’t go writing about it tomorrow, yeah?”

“No. I’ll do it today.” Louis smiles. “Oh, Hazz. What a shitty timing you have.”

“Story of my life.” There’s no humor to it.

“I guess I’ll- get going then?”

“You should.” The actor replies.

“Text me whenever, yeah?” 

Harry simply nods.

Louis looks around and the only things he really needs to collect are his keys and his cellphone. Doing it quickly, Louis gives Harry a final look and a sad smile, and says “see you, Hazz”.

The actor doesn't respond.  _ But it's okay. It is going to be okay. _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK OK OK I KNOW YOU ARE ANGRY.  
> BUT- BUT... It's a slowburn. It's torture for us all. Bear with me. It'll all be worth it at some point.
> 
> All the love as always, M. <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes even I forget how mad I am at Louis. He's doing what he thinks is right, though.

           Greece is nice; this is Harry’s first thought when they arrive at the island Cara and Elisey are going to be working on for the next week or so. Thanks to weather condition, they traded Australia for Skyros, just another kind of paradise, and a closer one – Harry is happy, since he really didn’t want to travel that far, but, if anything, this break from London is more than welcomed.

Things are simply too grey in London, and it isn’t just the sky. Ever since he and Louis kissed, almost a month ago, Harry’s days have been dull. And he knows this is partially his fault. He also knows he was the one who asked for space. Louis is doing nothing but giving it to him. When Harry confirms lunch or dinner out with their friends, Louis doesn’t show up, always finding an excuse. Deep down, or maybe not that deep at all, Harry is thankful. He misses him, but he is thankful.

“Earth to Harry”, Elisey says as he squeezes his waist.

“I’m here, just admiring the view”, he smiles as he looks over the balcony.

“So am I”, the Russian model replies, staring straight at the actor.

“That… Was very cheesy.”

“Sorry”, Elisey apologizes and kisses his cheek. “That was really gross.”

“Really gross”, Harry turns and pecks his mouth. “Don’t ever be cheesy again, please, this” he motions between them “is not it.”

“I know, I know, you’re head over heels for somebody else blah blah blah. Don’t worry, Harry Styles, I’m just having a good time. I promise not to fall madly in love with you.” He jokes.

“It’ll be very hard, I reckon, so good luck.” Harry teases. The beach completely forgotten. Louis- not so much. For now.

“Does everyone really fall in love with you? All the time?” The man asks, his thick accent making it sound even more curious and disbelieving.

Harry chokes on a laugh that could easily be a loud sob, by the way he’s feeling.

“You have no idea.” He chooses to answer. Because the answer would be no. No one ever falls in love with him.

Harry kisses Elisey and tells him they should probably head down to have lunch. But as the model seems to have other plans, he simply drags Harry into their room and pins him to the nearest wall.

The only thing Harry focuses right now is this moment.

 

-

 

He didn’t intend for this to be a couple’s trip, not at all; but since Cara decided to invite her girlfriend, the four of them do pretty much everything together, like they’re on an endless double date. It works, though. If they get recognized on the street, they can easily say Harry’s with Cara and Annie is with Elisey, as ridiculous as that is. They’ve had to lie twice, so far, and the four of them had a hard time holding their laughs till they could be alone again.

Both Cara and Elisey are really good at their jobs, and this Gucci campaign asks for just that: good, talented, hard-working models. Harry never really had any prejudice when it came to modeling life, but after witnessing his fake-girlfriend and his current hook up working, he sure as hell has a lot more respect for them.

Today, Harry and Annie decide to go shopping while their interests work, because the beach has gotten a bit too hot for their liking. Harry’s about to become a lobster, he’s really… Red.

“You know what’s funny?” The singer asks him as they exit another small market.

“What?”

“For a long time it’s been Louis doing this with me.” Annie muses.

“Well, sorry I’m not him”, he pretends to be offended.

“Oh, sorry. Wasn’t meant to be an offence. Just a comment.”

“I was joking”, Harry rolls his eyes.

The girl hits his shoulder lightly.

“Thought he’d tag along to be honest. Last time I saw him he seemed very driven to making things better with you.”

“He tried.” Harry confesses. “We just fucked it all up again… Should we get ice cream?” He points to an ice cream parlor a little bit ahead, on their left.

“Sure”, she agrees. “So, is that why you look sulky every time Cara mentions his name or shows his snapchats?”

“I don’t look _sulky_.”

“You really do, Harry”, Annie laughs. “God, you’re both hopeless.”

“Is that supposed to mean anything?”

“I don’t know.” She takes a deep breath and raises an eyebrow. “Is it?” 

“Shut up and pick an ice cream flavor”, Harry chooses to say as they enter the place. “I’m buying.”

 

-

 

This is a posh restaurant, for a posh dinner. Louis kind of knows why he is here, and he’s seen it coming a mile away by the way Ashton’s been acting these past few days: weird.

When he finds him at the table, he opens a smile and walks straight at Louis, looking a bit breathless.

“What’s it with you and arriving late for our dates?” The journalist smiles close mouthed, more teasingly than anything.

“I’m so sorry”, he pouts. “Got caught up at-”

“Work, I know, I read your text, it’s fine.” Louis says. “How are you?”

“Good, yeah. You?” He kisses his cheek.

“Enjoying some fine wine. Been worse.” Louis chuckles.

They talk amenities throughout their meal and more than half a bottle of wine when dessert arrives. There is something about this night that feels good, light, and exactly what Louis needs.

He’s had a difficult time at work today too, if he’s being honest, and all because they wanted to send him to the United States. Simple as that, his boss said _Louis, we want you to move to our office in the US._

Louis said no, of course he did. As amazing as an opportunity as that sounded, his life is here, his home is here, and he wouldn’t change London for the world. However, it was still stressful. He got this close of losing everything just by being “stubborn”, according to Simon – his boss –, but he got through it.

So the posh dinner, expensive wine and relaxing night are helping a lot. The boy is a nice touch, too, and Louis realizes that the more he talks, the more nervous Ashton seems to get.

“Ok”, he pauses, “what is happening, Ash?”

“Is it that obvious that I’m freaking out here?”

“Yes?” Louis laughs. “I just don’t know why.”

“I really like you.” The photographer says all too quickly.

“Good. I like you too.” He smooths his hand on top of Ashton’s. “So, that’s settled.”

“Yes. Uh- I’d like to, uh. Call you my boyfriend. If- I mean. I said I really like you, yeah? And I haven’t… I haven’t even _looked_ at anyone ever since we started- this. So. Yeah. I’m not the most eloquent right now, but I’d still like you to be my boyfriend. If you want that too.”

“Oh, babe…” Louis’ face softens. “I…” He thinks. “Okay, before I answer, I need to tell you something. Is that all right?”

Ashton swallows thickly. Nods.

“Remember the other day when you asked me about Harry and I said we haven’t really spoken in a while?”

“Yes.”

“We kissed. About a month ago.” Louis says in one go. “And the reason why I didn’t tell you this before is because I found it unnecessary, since- technically, I didn’t do anything wrong, because we never said we were exclusive; but also because it isn’t going to happen again, so.”

“You kissed him?” He clarifies.

“Yes.” Louis looks into his eyes. “When Harry and I met, it was because of Cara. And you have eyes so you know how attractive he is. So, back then, I thought maybe- maybe we could hook up or whatever. But we became friends, and decided we were just flirting for fun. Harry could flirt with a stone if he wanted to, I swear.” The journalist chuckles.        

“I’ve seen it.” Ashton half smiles.

“Yeah… So. We had fought a while ago, because I was an asshole- like I sometimes am. And I went there to apologize, and we- uh, got high. So it happened. We kissed. Nothing else. But then that was it for me, because I… I said I was with you. Because I want to be with you.” Louis says. “Because a month ago, I kind of already wanted to be your boyfriend.”

“Lou-”

“So, yes. If you’ll really have me. I uh- I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Even having some unresolved shit with Harry?”

“There’s nothing unresolved. Harry’s a closeted actor whose beard is my best friend. He’s a nice lad, and I’d like to go back to being friends with him at some point. But I’d like to be _your_ boyfriend. Is that alright?”

“Oh my, how the tables have turned. Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson?” Ashton coos and actually blushes.

“Maybe I am.” He shrugs.

“Then the answer is yes.” Ashton takes Louis’ hand over the table and kisses it. “Thanks for telling me.”

Louis doesn’t reply. They finish the bottle of wine in silence and go back to deciding what they’re going to do on the weekend. At the end of the night, Louis hopes, with everything he’s got, that he’s made the right decision.

He hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time, so when he is alone at home on a Sunday afternoon, after saying goodbye to Ashton for the first time since they _became_ boyfriends, Louis picks up the phone to call his mom.

The thing is: he could call Liam. He knows his friend would be happy for him, no questions asked, and he could call Cara. She’d be very glad to hear the news too, he thinks. Louis could even call Lottie, his sister, and the girl would squeak on the other line. But there is something about talking to his mother before anyone else that feels _right_ to him.

For the longest while, it had been just the two of them trying to figure out how to make a living. For months, years even, Louis and Jay were a team. They overcame difficulties together; they trusted each other more than they trusted the rest of the world. His mom is probably the only person who Louis trusts to never let him down, to never wrong him, to never judge him too quickly for any decision.

And were Louis any other man, he’d probably be a bit embarrassed to say he needs his mother so damn much. But he’s not. He is Louis Tomlinson. British. Journalist. In his mid-twenties. And completely in need of a _mom_ ; today, and always.

_“Hi, baby”_ , Jay’s voice comes just as he’s smiling to himself, closing the fridge after getting a beer.

This kind of conversation always requires beer.

“Hey”, he replies weakly. “You busy?”

_“Not for you, no.”_

“I can call some other time.”

_“Don’t be daft, Lou, ‘m just doing laundry. Fizzy can finish it for me.”_ As soon as she says it, Louis can hear his sister complaining in the background.

It’s funny, Louis thinks, how he doesn’t miss living in a house full of women, but how his chest stings, at the same time, with a longing for that place he can’t quite explain.

_“Is everything all right?”_ Mom asks, now in a quieter corner of the house.

“Y-yeah. I have some news.”

_“Oh. Good or bad?”_

“Good.” He says. “I have a boyfriend now.”

_“What? Louis! Oh baby, that’s so good. Who is it?”_

Louis frowns. He’s pretty sure she’d already make the connection, seeing as he’s already mentioned Ashton to her more than once. But the journalist still indulges his mother.

“Ashton. The guy I told you about before? Australian photographer?”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Oh!” Jay exclaims in a mix of surprise and disappointment. Louis really doesn’t want to dwell in her reaction. “Are you- are you happy?”

“Of course, mom”, he chuckles.

“Good, good. As long as you’re happy and in love and sure you want to be in this relationship, then, yeah. I’m happy for you too, sweetie.” His mother tells him.

“I am sure”, he simply replies. _Not in love_. _But I really like him and it’s enough for now. Love comes with time._ He doesn’t say.

“Congratulations, I guess?”

“It’s not an accomplishment to be in a relationship, mom.”

Jay sighs.

“What do I say then?” She chuckles.

“Nothing. We’re good, _Johanna_ , I just wanted to tell you before I told anybody else, or Ash decides to put it on facebook.” Louis clarifies. “Is everything all right over there?”

It’s almost as if she’s relieved to change the topic, and that doesn’t sit very well with him, but he lets it go, because maybe he’s just being paranoid. Louis listens as she tells him about what the twins have been up at school and how Félicité is barely at home anymore now that she’s getting older – she suspects she’s got a boyfriend and doesn’t want to tell her about that, and Louis needs to contain a laughter, since he knows, for a fact, that his teenage sister is, indeed, dating… A girl.

For someone who’s raised a gay son and has always known about it (“since you were five, Louis! *rolls eyes*), her gaydar is pretty bad when it comes to Fizzy, who never ever showed any kind of interested in men – not like Lottie, at least. Or maybe all of his sisters just have an urge to confess things to him beforehand. Louis cannot wait to go home and watch his sister come out to a dumbfounded mother. The only reason she hasn’t yet is because he asked to be there, so, she’s waiting.

Jay updates him on the house and the neighbors and her job. She asks about Cara and Annie, Liam and Louis’s job. She asks about Harry and the journalist skirts around it, and it’s nearing seven pm when they finally hang up the phone.

He texts Cara and Liam about it next, and before he falls asleep he accepts his _boyfriend’s_ request to advertise their relationship on social media. This weekend’s been way too long.  

 

-

 

Upon returning to London Harry decides that he needs to do some actual work. This break’s going to drive him insane otherwise. They land at Heathrow airport at four pm on a Tuesday, and Cara’s handler is there to pick them all up. She was right, by the way, the first time Harry and she talked, this guy is a total asshole and not for the first time Harry wishes Niall were here.

They leave Harry at home and he goes straight to the shower, still feeling like there are at least five pounds of sand and salt in and on him, even after showering constantly in Greece. There’s just something about showering at his own place that makes him feel cleaner.

Harry lets the cool water hit is back and practically moans at the feeling. His body hurts like hell from the plane and his head is pounding as well, and even though he’s just spent ten days in Para-para-paradise with some really cool people, it’s like only now he’s getting some real vacation.

If he could, he’d just disappear for a while. Because Harry is tired. Fuck, is he tired.

He’s tired and he’s sad, and a day hasn’t gone by in which he hasn’t missed Louis. And he knows he is ridiculous by even _thinking_ this, since he’s been having sex with another man for almost a month now. But it’s just- different. Harry misses Louis in other ways, too, even though his body craves for the physical contact as well.

He misses him when he cooks just for one and he misses him when he’s watching a stupid TV Show and when the fuck did he unlearn how to live alone? It’s not even as if Louis was there a hundred percent of the time. This doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, he thinks.

Harry _hates_ that he acknowledged feelings. Because now it’s all too real. Now it all stings. And he just wants to be okay.

With that thought, Harry calls Liam and asks him to take him out. Anywhere will do, as long as he drinks to forget tonight.

“Have you ever heard of Funky Budah?” The footballer asks as soon as he steps into Harry’s flat.

“Yes, Liam, you’ve talked about this place a hundred times.”

“I go there a lot, yes”, he smiles. “You look good, tanned.”

“I am. Am also fat, we need to go back to running this week.” The actor chuckles.

“Still look stunning, mate. As a straight man I can say that you look very fuckable. Which, speaking of, where’s your boy-toy?” Liam teases and Harry tosses him a beer.

“At his hotel room, I don’t know. He’s going back to Russia at the end of the month, so it’ll probably only last till then anyways.”

“You sad?” Liam asks.

“Fat chance”, he laughs. “It’s nothing, Liam.”

“I don’t know. Thought you might like him.”

“Nah. I mean, yes, he’s very nice. But no.”

“D’you miss it?” Liam asks, looking a bit more serious.

“Miss what?”

“Liking someone? Having someone there?” He’s looking down now, almost as if he doesn’t want to show anything on his face. Harry knows this trick all too well.

“Can’t say I do.” He answers carefully. “Never had it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I miss it.”

“Which is why, my friend, we’re gonna get you very drunk tonight. Maybe you’ll find the love of your life!” Harry cheers and walks towards Liam, dragging him, beer in hand, towards the front door.

“And you?” The footballer arches a brow.

“I’mma just get very drunk. And then hail a cab back.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun for me, just a bit of fun for you.”

“That’s all right.”

So this is how they party. Harry needed comfort and wound up comforting a touchy-feely Liam instead, but that’s fine, because it makes him feel good.

He sticks to beer the whole night.

Firstly because there are too many fans and cameras around, secondly because he’s gotta drive back to his mom’s tomorrow, thirdly because even though the goal of the night was to forget, Harry’s mind changed two pints in.

It’s just… He needs to deal with it. Whatever this is, it needs to be dealt with, not left behind. He knows that he needs to talk to Louis again, eventually. He knows that it won’t go away quickly, so he’ll have to get used to… Feeling like this. And it sucks. The whole thing sucks so much.

Timing sucks, and Harry’s closet sucks, and Louis not reciprocating his feelings sucks even more. He doesn’t even know what sucks the most at this point. But Liam is having a good time, Harry’s dancing to Bruno Mars, and his life is a little less sad at the moment.

“Hey, mate, have I told ya I’m throwing a party at the end of the month?” Liam asks when they hit the bar after their bodies are sweaty enough that they need a breather.

“Uh- no?”

“I am. Throw one every year at the end of the season. It’s the only time I throw a proper party, since I don’t usually celebrate my birthday.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t know. I don’t think it’s that special. But like- the end of the season, especially when we have a successful one… That’s always very important to me.”

“Nice. Weird. But nice, man”, he chuckles.

“Yes. You’re super invited. Bring whoever.”

“Will do.” Harry smiles. “One more pint?”

“Yes. One more pint and then I’ll talk to that girl over there.” He points not so subtly.

Harry winks at him and asks for their drinks. It’s on him tonight, because he wants Liam to be happy and get laid. Harry’s a good friend.

They talk for fifteen more minutes and then the other man decides to get up.

“Wish me luck.”

“You’re Liam Payne. You don’t need luck.” Harry gives him a light slap on the back and then Liam is gone.

It’s when two girls offer him the chance of a threesome that Harry decides it’s time to go.

 

-

 

Driving home is always fun, but today is extra special because Gemma is taking Niall home.

They’re all in one car and Gemma insisted on driving, saying Harry’s a grandpa on the wheel and Niall’s the complete opposite.

“A mad man, I’m telling you”, she says.

“Won’t get points with mom like that, mate”, Harry teases.

“Like I’m not nervous enough already, thank you, Harry.”

“She’s all right. You’ll be fine, stop overreacting. And shut up, Harry.” Gemma sounds so, so freaked out.

Harry cracks up a laugh.

“Gosh, this is so much fun!” He even claps as he keeps laughing. “Can we listen to Fleetwood Mac please?” He asks right after.

“Sure.” Niall answers and picks up Gemma’s phone, which is connected to the car’s Bluetooth. “Okay, so tell me, what should I know to conquer your mother’s heart?” He turns on his side, looking at Harry, who’s in the backseat.

“Just make Gem laugh. Mom just wants us to be happy, I suppose.” Harry answers.

“And you do that”, his sister says to Niall, placing a hand on his thigh and lightly caressing it there.

It’s the softest Harry’s seen Gemma in a long time, and it makes him wonder how much she likes him.

Harry finds them an odd couple, because they usually don’t look like a couple at all. Niall and Gemma act so much like best friends, cursing all the time and talking about disgusting things, going on adventures like hikes and paintball games that it’s hard to picture them as more than really cool best friends.

But then there are moments, moments like this, in which she looks at him in a certain way, and Niall tilts his head just right to do the same, and Harry can almost feel what they do. He can definitely see it.

They’re two people who had it easy. They met, they went out, they genuinely liked each other, they started dating.

Harry feels like a horrible person for being jealous of them. What helps is that he’s just so extremely happy at the same time. He hopes it all balances out.

 

-

 

Anne falls in love with Niall ten minutes after they’ve arrived. She can’t believe he is Harry’s handler, because “Harry hated you so much”, his mother laugh.

“Oh, God, mother. I did not _hate_ Niall. I just didn’t trust him, it was different.” He corrects him.

“Oh, Hazza, so now you trust me?” He asks and bats eyelashes.

“Stupid.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna leave my things in my room and get back downstairs.”

“Okay, I’m working on lunch”, Anne says.

“Need help?” Niall offers.

“He’s a good cook.” Gemma advocates.

“Then I’d love help.” Anne smiles. “You can set the table, Gems.”

It’s always good being home, Harry feels. He remembers Louis saying that for him it gets a bit overbearing, and yeah, to some degree maybe it does, especially if you decide to spend too much time, but Harry’s happy to be here nonetheless.

He worries himself sick about Anne whenever he’s away and he doesn’t really understand why she decided to spend the rest of her life alone. She’s still relatively young, she’s beautiful and just about the best person Harry’s ever known; he thinks she deserves better than a man that walked out on her.

But it’s not up to him to decide anything, definitely not when it comes to his mother’s love life, so it just feels like a reward when he is here and she smiles brighter, looks more alive.

They all have a great afternoon after lunch, and take Niall for a walk in Holmes Chapel. There’s really not much to show, but it’s nice to get out of the house and feel the summer air. It’s not as hot as it should be anymore, but that’s just England for you. Harry misses the beach, and, right now, he misses LA more than he has in a while.

“What you thinking there, mistah?” His sister nudges him on the shoulder.

“That I miss my house.”

“You’ve just left it.”

“My LA house, I mean”, he explains. “My LA friends.”

“They’re not your _friends_. Jeff and the others.”

“I like them”, he shrugs. “I like going out with them, at least. And just, like, doing- stuff.”

“Stuff.”

“Don’t know, Gems. I wanna go back there. Wanna audition for things. Wanna go back to work.” Harry says.

“I can do that for you”, Gemma replies, a lot softer than ten seconds ago.

“Do what for him?” Anne asks, coming back from the flower shop, Niall in tow.

“Hazz wants to go back to work.”

“I’m going crazy.” He explains.

“That’s so you”, his mother laughs and hugs him. They start walking together towards the house. “So, what do you have in mind, then?”

Harry and Gemma tell her about the war movie Harry’s interested in, and some other roles that have been offered to him, and they all discuss animatedly what each of them could entail.

He doesn’t know much about any of them, but he really makes a plan to start focusing on it all as soon as he gets back to London.

Niall stays quiet through most of it, just offering inputs from publicity points of view, and when they finally get back to the house, the conversation’s already on what Niall does for a living and how he doesn’t get tired of Harry’s shenanigans.

They jump from topic to topic until it’s late enough to order food in.

Anne insists on paying for it and Harry takes deep breaths not to fight her in it. He knows when his mom does things that are not up for discussion.

“Movie time?” He suggests.

“Movie time!” Gemma agrees.

“Bed for me”, their mom says and they both whine, like the two children they are when they’re together. “I woke up very early, and you guys tire me out.” She jokes.

“G’night, mom”, he gets up and kisses her forehead. “Will make breakfast in the morning”, he says.

“I look forward to it.”

“Night, mom”, Gemma is next.

“Have a good night. Be a good host to Niall.”

“Thanks, Anne. Good night.”

“You too, dear. I’m really glad you’re all here.” She says and with a final wave, walks further into the house.

Harry, Gemma and Niall settle on watching _Moonlight_ , one of the Oscar movies. They’ve all been putting it off for way too long now. His sister, inevitably, falls asleep in the middle of it, head on Niall’s lap.

“Out like a light.” He whispers.

“Since we were kids, I swear to God.” Harry chuckles.

“Hey, Hazza.”

“Yeah?”

“You all right?” Niall asks.

“I am.”

“And you going to the US has, like, zero to do with Louis?” He makes another question.

Harry thinks before answering it.

“I think…” He clears his throat. “I think it has a lot to do with him. But it has more to do with me. I really miss working.”

“Hm.” Niall ponders. “Are you guys still not speaking?”

Harry shakes his head.

“Why?”

“He… He and Ashton made it official. Saw it on facebook the other day.”

“Oh.” _Oh_. “I guess that’s it then.” He says out loud, even though he didn’t mean to.

Shit. That’s it then, isn’t it?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still having computer/internet problems. Promise I am doing my best. 
> 
> All the love.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long it took, as you may have noticed, I was busy with the Dunkirk AU oneshot. 
> 
> Let's just say this chapter has an interesting ending...

       Harry decides to visit Nick on a sunny Tuesday. Both things are surprising, that Harry is going to visit his sort of ex, and that it is sunny in London. He wakes up early and feeling like he should do something with his day, and why not stop by BBC before going to the gym?

He texts his former hook up and now friend when he’s already on his way to the radio station, and Nick only replies with a thumb’s up emoji, probably driving too.

It’s been way too long since Harry’s been here just to hang out, without any obligation, but he’s still received with huge smiles and tight hugs. Greg James comments on his hair being _wild_ and Fiona smacks a kiss on his cheek making him almost lose balance.

“What are you doing here, wanker?” She asks ever so politely.

“I missed your dear face, of course”, he snorts. It’s not even a lie. Harry’s missed coming here; thinks he should’ve done it before.

“I’m wounded”, Grimmy comments, two mugs of tea in hands. “Won’t even give you breakfast now.”

“I hate you, I didn’t miss you one bit”, Harry says and then grabs a mug for himself. He smiles contentedly as he realizes it’s the same one from the first time he set foot here. “Thank you”, he then mumbles.

“You’re welcome, dear Harold.” Nick replies and Harry follows him into the studio where he always “concentrates” before going on air.

He actually does, when Harry lets him. Nick goes through his papers and gets ready. Not today. Today Harry is here and he knows he’s going to be the center of attention.

“We got some time before going on air, how’ve you been doing?” His friend asks.

“Good, you?”

“Fantastic.” Nick smiles. “Wanna try again?” He only half jokes and Harry’s sure his face falls. “Seriously. You and Tomlinson worked things out?”

Harry snorts.

“That’s water under the bridge.”

“What?”

“Disaster after disaster, my friend. Louis’ got a boyfriend, by the way. Seems happy.” _If his Instagram posts, which I’ve been stalking, are anything to go by._ “We’re not really… Talking.”

“H…”

“It’s fine.” The actor lies.

“It’s not.” Nick replies.

“I’m getting there.” Harry smiles. “I think I realized I liked him too late, I don’t know.” And then he realizes something else… “I think this is the first time I’ve acknowledged it out loud, by the way.”

“I feel honored. And- ugh, I really thought he liked you back. This doesn’t make any sense.”

Harry doesn’t want to say _nobody ever likes me back_ nor does he want to think about it again. He wants to be done with the self-pity thing. He thinks that, albeit brief, his and Louis’ friendship deserves better. _He_ deserves better from his own self, so he simply smiles and shakes his head, does his best to change the subject, and then Nick lets it go.

When Nicholas Grimshaw announces that they have a very special guest at the station today, Harry laughs into the mic knowing that there is no way he’ll get away with it. It’s fine, though; being here brings him back to simpler times in which nobody cared much about who he was – he was just having fun, getting to know the industry, being friends with _Nick Freaking Grimshaw_ , Celebrity Guru or whatever they were used to calling him a couple of years ago.

Now he knows fans will go wild knowing he’s here; he knows his team will give him a hard time for not telling them and that even Gemma will probably be annoyed that she wasn’t warned. But it’s all fine. Today Harry is living for himself.

Nick has a new game, because of course he does.

“It’s nowhere near as cool as strip poker would be, but then again we wouldn’t be able to play it via radio with our listeners…” The radio host says sadly.

“Also, it wouldn’t be appropriate, since it’s- like, eight am.” Harry gives his input.

“And that, I guess.” His friend ponders. “Have you ever played strip poker, Harold?” Nick asks, voice way louder.

“No, can’t say that I have. Have you?”

He’s lying. They’ve both already played strip poker. More than once.

“Nope. But I’ve played some other kinds of poker…” Nick insinuates.

Harry chuckles, and then completes the sentence for his friend, because he knows exactly what he is about to say:

“Where kings are wild and straights don’t count.” The actor voices through giggles.

“They don’t?” Grimmy presses.

“Nope.” Harry makes a popping sound as he finishes the word, and for a minute or so he doesn’t think about the consequences

 

-

 

He’s already expecting that call when it comes, but it’s still very funny when he picks it up and Niall calls him by his full name and then some.

“What the hell did you think you were doing giving an interview without telling your management first? What were you even doing awake at that time?” His PA only doesn’t yell because he’s probably at work right now.

Harry snorts as Nick looks at him knowingly.

“CALM DOWN, STACY!” Harry exclaims. “I was bored”, he responds then. “Plus, it wasn’t an interview; I basically hosted that show with Nick.”

“Whom, just to clarify, you’re not fucking again, are you?”

“No”, he rolls his eyes. “Elisey is still in town”, the actor then completes. Niall breathes heavily on the other line.

“Michael wants your head on his table, Harry, and I’m not even being funny, you are to come straight here right now.”

“What?” He asks. Harry hasn’t seen his own publicist in ages and he’d much rather keep it that way. “What for?”

“I guess he just wants to scold you in person.”

“He’s not my boss.”

“He’s the closest thing to your boss.” Niall reasons. “Simon isn’t in the country.”

“Ugh, I hate you.” Harry sits back on his chair, Nick raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t.”

“I’ll be in the office after lunch.”

“You’d better.” His PA replies before hanging up.

“Guess your team isn’t very happy with you…” Nick muses.

“You gonna make fun of me? Right in front of my salad?” Harry asks, voice high and his friend laughs. All in all, it’s been a good morning. He’s gonna finish lunch with what he’s just remembered is one of his best friends, and then he’ll go to work. It’ll be okay.

 

-

 

The universe hates Harry, but it’s nothing new.

As soon as he enters his management’s building he kind of already knows what to expect. They’ll probably send him to another unknown location with Cara where they’ll prove once again how in love they are and how Harry Styles is a new man after all.

What he _doesn’t_ expect is the entire opposite to happen.

“We’re gonna break you guys up”, Michael lets him know.

Niall’s widened eyes show Harry that the Irishman is just as surprised.

“What the fuck?”  Niall looks at his boss.

“We’ll say you met someone else, we can pair you up with a new model who needs a bit of promo… Have you heard of Camille Rowe?”

“No”, Harry says, “and I don’t want to either. What the fuck?” He repeats Niall’s words.

“Look, Harry, you and Cara are old news already. People can only take so much of fluffiness before it gets boring, and you’re not helping if you’re out there shutting out the straights…” Michael tries not to roll his eyes, Harry knows, but the publicist can’t seem to resist it.

It only makes Harry angrier.

“I am not going to do it. I’m not going to break up with Cara.”

“Why not, you have feelings for her now?” He snorts.

_No. For her best friend_.

“No, but she is my friend. A good friend. We’re good together. Cara gets me and-”

“This is not to make you _happy_ , Harry; it’s to make you seem _straight_.” The publicist laughs.

“Why not both?” Niall defends him. “We can do better on his social media, post something on Instagram or twitter, make them go on more dates, pretend they’re moving in together, whatever, but- you don’t have to punish him that badly.”

“What about not punishing me at all?” The actor suggests.

“Oh no, mate, you do deserve some punishment”, Niall says. “I’ve already texted Cara and she’ll meet you outside in half an hour.”

“So you guys can break up.” The publicist completes.

“NO.” Harry all but screams and punches the glass table. He refuses to flinch, but his knuckles hurt. A lot. “I am _not_ breaking up with Cara now. Not if I just have to keep doing stunt after stunt, which clearly is you guys plan for me.” Harry takes a deep breath. “Please, don’t do this.” He then asks, voice a lot smaller, and falls back into the chair.

“Harry…” Michael sighs. “You know these lawyers are just waiting for you to breach your contract and sue you.”

“I’ll do better, okay? No more joking around with Grimmy.”

“And no more snogging super models where everyone can see.” He raises an eyebrow. “The Russian guy.”

“You told him?” The actor eyes Niall horrified.

“No, mate. Someone else did.” He replies.

“My point exactly.” Michael says. “I was tipped off, a week or so ago. Be fucking careful, Harry, or next time I’ll break you up with her and find you a new model before you can even get a word out. I’m just looking out for you, kid.”

It’s weird to have Michael calling him _kid_ when he’s not even ten years older than Harry, but the way he talks, walks and dresses makes Harry think of him as a much _adultier_ _adult_ than he himself.

“What time’s Cara arriving again?” The actor asks Niall.

“About thirty minutes”, he repeats the information.

“Kay. Thanks.”

 

-

 

Cara knows something is off with Harry as soon as they meet. They simply walk together out of the building and find a Café to sit in and wait for the paps. He opens the door for her and pays for their orders – since last time they went out Cara paid for their drinks – and then they find a somewhat quiet corner near the window where they’ll pretend to be in love.

Harry tells her the reason why they’re here and Niall called her with such a short notice, and she laughs to his face because _this is such a you thing_. It’s funny how much she knows him already. He’s happy for it, but he thinks his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, because she grabs his hand over the table and squeezes it tightly.

“Tell you what”, the model starts, “after we’re done with… This”, she looks outside just for a second, then at him again, “we can go back to mine and watch something on Netflix, and I’ll call Lou to entertain you when I eventually fall asleep.”

“Please, don’t”, Harry says way too quickly.

Cara loses her smile on the spot.

“Why not?” She frowns.

“Cause we kissed and now it’s weird?” He jokes. It falls flat.

“You _what_?” Cara scream-whispers. “When did _that_ happen?”

“Uh- a month ago?”

“Before we went to Greece?”

“Yes?”

Harry doesn’t understand this moment. He doesn’t understand it because Cara is very surprised, and Harry is very surprised that _she_ is surprised.

“What the hell?”

“Did he not tell you?” The actor frowns. She shakes her head negatively. He sighs, resigned. “He was a prick to me the day after that dinner… As you know. So he went there to apologize, and we spent the night smoking pot and watching TV. We kissed. He kissed me, I kissed back and we snogged for hours on end.”

“Harry…”

His eyes are watery, he knows they are. But he pushes through it and keeps telling the story.

“We fell asleep together and uh-” the actor sips from his tea. “When I woke up I could swear we were… Anyways. I cooked breakfast. We fought before either of us even ate it.”

“Oh Harry.” Cara says, a sad expression on her face. “Louis is _such_ an idiot, you guys are- perfect together, like _shit_ , I wanna punch him.”

“Don’t”, he smiles. “Thank you, but.” Harry sighs. “I already knew he was with Ashton anyways. And now they’re dating, exclusively or… Whatever, yeah. They’re boyfriends, and I’m happy for him, I just needed some space. Still need, I guess.”

“That’s all right, hon. I’ll stay awake with you, I promise”, she chuckles. “If… You still want to get pizza with me.”

“Sure thing, girlfriend.” He smiles at her. He’s a bit better now.

“We have a date then, boyfriend.” She touches his cheek and he leans into it. The paps are having a field day, he’s sure. But right now… Right now he’s being comforted by a friend.

 

-

 

At the end of every football season, Louis’ job gets a lot harder. Everyone wants an exclusive, everyone wants in on the newest gossips. It all just sucks.

Ashton is a good boyfriend, he is, but he also has a way of being overbearing when he’s trying to _do things for Louis_ , and Louis gets all the more irritated, which ends up with him being a prick. He’s trying to not be one when his boyfriend stumbles on another story for him.

“This is a good one”, he points at an email sent to Louis’ iPad. “Who’s that guy?”

“He’s a new player, Barça may buy him now that they sold Neymar”, Louis says.

“May?”

“Yeah. He’s only seventeen, so they’re still thinking about it. It’s hard to keep such young players in check”, Louis explains.

“Hm…” Ashton mumbles. He tries to be interested most of the time, but he doesn’t really care for footie, which is kind of a turn off in Louis’ book. He appreciates his effort, though. “Isn’t that a good thing to write about? You can talk about Neymar being the most expensive player of all times and-”

“I’ve already written a piece on Neymar the day he signed his contract. And this email isn’t about Barcelona buying him, but about why they shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t they?”

Louis thinks for a few seconds, then decides to trust him.

“According to this source, the boy is gay.”

“Louis!” Ashton’s eyes widen. “This is such a great opportunity.”

“What…” He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like, isn’t that a _super_ exclusive? It’d get you so much attention.”

“I can’t do that, don’t you get it?”

“You couldn’t do this to Harry, because he’s your best friend’s beard. But this is a different thing. You got nothing to do with this guy and your bosses would love for you to-”

“What? Out him?” Louis snorts. “One, I didn’t do this to Harry because I wouldn’t do this to _anyone_. Two, a hard, but important thing you should do as a journalist is acknowledge when you are not the right person to tell a story. This one isn’t mine to tell. It’s his and his only. And God forbid if I’m responsible for ending that kid’s career before it even properly starts.” With that, he deletes the email altogether.

“Okay.” Ashton sighs. “What are the other options then?”

“I’ll look at it again tomorrow. I have a few days. I’ll head to Liam’s now; will help him get the booze for the party tonight. You’re going, right?” He asks.

“Course”, his boyfriend smiles, “I’ll just have to leave early cause I have an early shoot tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Louis looks at him. “Okay.” He gets up.

“See you later?”

“Uh, sure, just- it’s best if you drive there then? Cause I’ll probably take a cab, since I plan on drinking.” Louis says.

“Y-yeah, no problem.” Ashton kisses him. “See you later.”

“Laters.” He pecks his mouth again and makes his way to his friend’s house.

 

-

 

Liam’s parties are always crazy, but good crazy. Every player is relaxed, and they all drink and do funny stuff that Louis only pretends he’ll hold over their heads come next season. People in Louis’ line of work tend to hate him for how easily everyone trusts him, with him being a journalist and all that, but that’s just how things are when you don’t act like a dick. ( _At least not when you’re working_ , his mind reminds him.)

He introduces Ashton to everyone that comes to talk to him, and his boyfriend is actually really nice with them. The photographer even pretends he is a big fan of Man U. Liam laughs at him as he embarrasses himself commenting something stupid about a game that he watched, and Louis goes for his defense. It’s pretty cute how his boyfriend’s cheeks redden and he hides his head in the crook of Louis’ neck.

The journalist is about to kiss him when Cara enters the party, Harry and Elisey in tow. He quickly thinks of a way to avoid Harry, still trying to follow his wishes, but he doesn’t need to think much, since the actor barely looks at his face before he’s making a beeline to the kitchen pulling the Russian model with him.

Louis can’t even believe Elisey is still around and a weird feeling settles in his gut.

Cara approaches them and her expression gets angrier the closer she gets.

“Hi, Ashton, how are you doing?” She asks, a smile on her face.

“Good, how are you?”

“I’m fine. Louis? A word?” His best friend raises an eyebrow and Louis would be crazy to say no.

“You’ll be fine on your own, babe?” He asks his boyfriend already knowing the answer.

“I’m actually gonna go, I think.”

“It’s… Barely eleven.”

“I need to be up by six, Lou, I told you.” Ashton holds his hand. “Plus, now your best friend is here to entertain you, you’ll be fine.” He chuckles and looks at Cara, who only offers him a half smile.

Louis doesn’t explain to him that he’d be fine anyways because he knows everyone in his freaking house. He doesn’t explain to him that it’s different when you have a boyfriend, who should simply be there, even if everyone else is too. He doesn’t explain it because he knows Ashton would stay if he could. It’s just that he can’t. And it kind of sucks. Especially when he has to deal with Harry and what’s his face being here too.

But it’s fine.

He says he understands and tells Cara he’ll find her as soon as he takes his boyfriend to the door.

Ashton snogs him in front of everyone who’s there to see and then asks for Louis to call tomorrow, when he isn’t hungover anymore.

 

-

 

“Hi, babes!” He smiles brightly when he finds Cara again, a few minutes later than he wanted to, since he was caught up with another group of people. “How are you?” Cara only stares at him. “Hey, what happened?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” She replies, voice cold. He doesn’t think she’s ever talked to him like that.

“Cara… What?”

She turns to him fully now, and drags him to a corner.

“If you're gonna go around kissing my fake boyfriend and then ditch him the morning after, the least you could do was let me know", Cara scolds him.

_Fuck_.

“He told you.”

“Damn right he did, after almost having a heart attack when innocent me suggested that the three of us hang out.” She mocks her own self. Cara is so angry.  "The fuck do you think you're doing, Louis?"

At this point Louis really doesn't know. But he doesn’t say that.

“I made a mistake, Cara. You can’t judge me for making a mistake.”

“Harry wasn’t a mistake, you utter _idiot_ ”, she hits him on the arm.

“Ouch, Cara, shit.” It hurts. Cara is a boxer, after all.

“It’s what you deserve, twat.”

“Is he all right?”

“He’s not bloody all right.” The model replies. “But he’s getting there”, she breathes out.

“Good.” Louis says. “I’m just- I’m trying to live my life, okay? Looking out for myself. It wasn’t right to kiss him. I was with Ash and- and I still am.”

“The question is: _why?_ ”

“Because I like him? And he likes me back? And the sex is good? And he asked me to be his boyfriend and I said yes?”

“ _Why?_ ”

“I just gave you reasons, Cara!” He replies exasperatedly. “Harry found someone else to fuck him just fine, so it’s not like he’s hurting because of me, okay?”

“Louis.”

“No. Do not make me feel guilty for not shagging your fake boyfriend, who, may I remind you, is in the closet, which, may I _also_ remind you, I am _not_.” Louis scream-whispers. “I like Harry. A lot. I want to go back to being friends with him because, _can you believe_ , I actually quite miss him. But don’t you try to give me a moral lesson when I’m doing exactly what he asked and giving him space.” Louis tells her. “I’ll be more than happy to hang out with you guys if you’ll have me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna find more booze. You just ruined a perfectly good party.”

He turns around and isn’t surprised at all when his best friend grabs him by the arm.

“I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

“I love you too. And I am happy.” He assures her.

“I’m very pissed off that you didn’t tell me.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m also very pissed off with how blind you are right now.”

“Cara…” He takes a deep breath.

“But I guess time will tell you that.”

Now Louis walks away and she lets him.

He finds vodka, and decides he’s done with beer for tonight.

 

-

 

As it turns out, Louis was right. He _can_ survive a party without a boyfriend _and_ without Cara. He can also pretend Harry isn’t here, if he drinks a bit more.

The music is great, but then again Andy – one of Liam’s childhood friends – is a damn good DJ. Louis dances around with every group he’s pulled into and even plays a round of truth or dare with some WAGs. He loves them.

He starts to get sleepy around one in the morning, and it’s not even because he’s tired… He’s certain is because of the alcohol. He finds Liam to let him know he’s going to turn in earlier, and his friend simply slaps him in the back telling him to pick any room available.

“Just not mine, not tonight.”

“Why not, Liam? Is there a lady in this party you’re going to take to bed?” He slurs the words, but still manages to tease his friend.

“Maybe…” Liam responds.

“GET IN!” He high-fives he footballer. “Who is she?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, when you’re sober.” Liam rolls his eyes. Louis kisses his cheek and manages to climb the stairs without falling.

It’s way quieter up here. Liam did a good investment when he bought this place, because the acoustic downstairs is really good and doesn’t affect whoever wants to sleep upstairs. He remembers vividly when the real estate agent said that and he snorted. Louis feels like he should apologize to her right now.

When he first hears it, it’s just a whimper. Nothing too loud, just loud enough for him to hear in a quiet space.

“Want me on my knees for you?” Someone asks.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” Someone else replies.

It comes from one of the guest bedrooms, the door’s slightly open and Louis’ curiosity gets the best of him.

At first, he thinks the darkness of the room is deceiving him, or else his eyes are confused and dazzled by the alcohol in his system. For a minute or two Louis can make out nothing at all but dark lumps of furniture, the chest of drawers and the curtains by the window. Then the sound calls his attention again, and Louis tries to focus on the figures right there.

There’s a man on his knees, probably the one who _asked_ the question a minute ago, and the other one… The other one Louis knows exactly who is.

His smile is wavy, and his eyes seem the picture of perfection, slicing into one’s soul. There’s a momentary flash in them, a sparkle, reminding Louis of the day they first met. His eyes also remind Louis of dew grass freshly watered, and an unfamiliar warmth rushes through his body as the other man moans as the one on his knees kisses the inside of his parted legs.

Louis seems to be stuck in place, when all he wants to do is run. He definitely does _not_ want to see that.

Then Harry’s eyes meet his. In that exact moment, Louis can’t breathe. Because Harry _sees_ him. Harry sees him and closes his eyes again, burying his hands in Elisey’s hair as the Russian model goes down on him one more time.

Louis’ body jolts into movement then. He is out of the house before he can even think about where he’s going.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hi, Ez! I can already hear your voice on snapchat saying "WHAT THE FUCK MEL THAT WAS TOO SHORT".)


	12. Chapter 12

        “If it was such a fucking mistake, why can’t you forget it?” Harry asks him, face more angry than sad.

“Because.” Louis replies weakly.

The actor simply snorts, gets closer.

“You see, I have a different theory.” _Way closer_. “I think you miss me. You miss _it_. So you keep saying over and over again that it was a mistake so you won’t want me anymore.”

Louis can hear his own hear his own heartbeat as it threatens to break through his chest. His ears are burning, his breath is ragged and every part of him is craving Harry’s touch. _Shit, Harry’s right, isn’t he?_ Louis looks up at him. And the last thing he feels before waking up is Harry’s hand pulling him strongly by the waist.

The room’s all white, which means it’s not the middle of the night anymore. Louis stares at the ceiling even though the light hurts his eyes, and he breathes way too quickly for somebody who’s just woken up. He feels ridiculous. He’s scared of his own dream. He’s scared of how much he _wanted_ that dream to be true, just so he could feel… Damn it.

Louis fights the Harry in his brain as strongly as he can while awake, since he can’t do it in his sleep. It’s not the first time he’s had a dream like this. Not even the second, ever since Liam’s party.

The image of Harry resting his back on a wall looking that aroused as someone went down on him is something difficult to be erased. Until now Louis hasn’t given it much thought: whether he was shocked, or sad or _jealous_. Or all three together. He couldn’t that night and he _can’t_ know.

Fuck, _no!_

Ashton is right here. Right fucking here. By his side, sleeping soundly.

Louis feels like throwing up.

He doesn’t, though. He gets up, brushes his teeth and attempts to make breakfast. He manages eggs on toast and sits on the couch watching some children’s cartoon, because that’s what he feels like doing.

His life is a mess, if there is any way to describe it. Lately Louis has been making mistake after mistake and he would love to say that by _lately_ he means the last couple of weeks, but it’s actually some couple of months.

It’s been ages since he visited his mom, he hasn’t really talked to his sisters, Cara is still angry with him, Liam keeps giving him weird glances and he’s nowhere to being completely honest with his boyfriend. He’s nowhere near being completely honest with himself, so maybe he should start right there, but he doesn’t.

Louis feels like once again he’s at square one in life, in general. For some unknown reason, he keeps thinking that everything he does is boring. He doesn’t really feel excited about his job anymore, and he’s been putting as much effort in it as he used to in school, which isn’t much, if you ask him.

When he finished university, with a job already lined up, one of his professors made him _promise_ that Louis wouldn’t let his career ruin him. When Louis asked him why, his professor replied: “because it ruined me. Writing used to be _hot_ , sexy, attractive, you know? Words made me hard. There’s no other way to explain. And once I started writing professionally, talking shit about other people’s lives and whatnot, I got old really quick and suddenly I had erectile dysfunction. Suddenly words didn’t make me hard anymore, they just… They just meant another report I had to turn in by five. That’s why I left the newspaper and became a professor. I enjoy it, but it kinda is my Viagra. This… All of this, including this degree you so preciously hold now, means absolutely nothing if you lose your passion. And you’ve got a lot of it. Don’t take Viagra too early, Tommo, is all I’m saying”.

And, you see, Louis doesn’t feel ruined, not yet. But he _has_ been needing a bit more time to get in the zone to write recently. Nothing is very interesting anymore. Numbers are just numbers, players are just players, and if he has to pretend to be interested in tennis one more time this month he will behead himself, he’s pretty sure.

He’s semi freaking out and thinking of other job options when Ashton surges from his bedroom, already dressed up for one more day of work. Louis wonders if he is as in love with photography as an amateur photographer is. He wonders if Ashton still has his passion. Does Cara? Does _Harry_? _No_. _Do not wonder anything about Harry_.

“Morning”, his boyfriend says as he opens the fridge.

“Hey”, Louis looks at him from the sofa, a half-smile on his face. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You’re up early.” Ashton observes.

Louis’ body goes rigid.

“My back was hurting”, he lies before he can even control himself. But oh well, what should he bloody say? _I had a dream about Harry Styles_? He can’t.

“Hm, I’m sorry”, Ashton replies and then brings his mug of coffee to the couch. He doesn’t really eat in the mornings and Louis doesn’t understand that. If he could, if he _knew_ how to cook, he’d probably have a full English every day, like those Harry used to make for brunch. “Hey, so, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Scary.”

“Not really”, his boyfriend chuckles. “My uh- my parents are coming to visit next week, and I was wondering if maybe you’d like to meet them?”

“Uh…” Louis thinks.

“They know I have someone here. They’re happy for me, and very excited to meet you, so I just thought.”

“No, yeah, uh- sure. I’m okay with that.”

Louis isn’t. But he is? He’s having mixed feelings right now.

Mostly, he is curious. No one has ever treated him like this. No boyfriend of Louis’ has ever asked him to _meet the parents_ ; no one has ever been this kind – at least no one he’s been romantically and sexually involved with.

Plus, Ashton is good to him. It’s good and it’s easy and maybe _easy_ is how it should be. No closeting, no beard, no identity problem, no childishness to deal with. Just someone who is there, who won’t ask for too much, who thinks Louis is enough.

“Yes?” There’s hopefulness in his eyes.   

_God_.

“Yes”, Louis replies, but his smile doesn’t really reach his eyes. It’s a good thing he doesn’t look up.

“Cool, they’re gonna be happy.” He takes a sip from his coffee. “Think yours would like to join?”

“Who?”

“Your parents.”

“Oh.”

“I just think it’d be nice? I know you say Cara’s your family, but I know you’ve got an actually family full of people I would love to meet.” _What._ “You never talk much about them, do you?”

“No…” The journalist trails.

And then he notices, maybe way too late, that he doesn’t talk about his family _at all_. With Ashton.

The photographer knows about the things he’s asked; about the fact that Louis has two sets of twins for siblings and that his mom is beautiful because he’s seen a picture of the two of them in Louis’ living room. But that’s all. And Louis… Louis frowns at his own self, trying to understand _why in hell_ he’s never said anything.

He thinks it’s because Ashton doesn’t really love children, and “doesn’t find them as endearing as everybody else”. That made Louis cut all the cute stories. Jay… Well. Louis doesn’t mention Jay much because what does he have to say but the fact that his mom keeps doubting their relationship? The journalist is fairly sure that she won’t sit for lunch with them and Ashton’s family without making snarky remarks. He _knows_ her.

And his father… Well. Louis doesn’t talk about his father to anyone. Except for Cara, when the end of the year is approaching. And Harry. That one time. That one time that it felt easier to breathe than he had every felt before when he talked about the subject. That one time he felt more understood and more comforted than ever before.

It feels like ages ago.

“No, I don’t…” Louis repeats again, looking at Ashton. “I’ll talk to them about it.” Is what he decides to answer.

They leave it at that.

Because Louis can’t talk about his family with Ashton.

With Harry he could.

He dwells in it for only two minutes after his boyfriend leaves to go to work, and then shakes himself out of this trance, getting up and focusing on the task of the day: laundry.

Lazy days aren’t so lazy when you are an adult.

 

-

 

Summer is starting to say goodbye in the cruelest way, and the cold Harry feels in his bones has less to do with the weather than one would imagine. September creeped up on him is the thing.

One morning he was saying goodbye for good to Elisey and going to his mom’s place where he stayed cocooned for two weeks, and on the other Gemma was dragging his ass back to London because he had work to do.

Thankfully, Cara Delevingne is a fucking saint and kept their romance alive on social media while he couldn’t deal with it, because… Because Harry thinks he might be going insane, is the thing.

So he did what his sister told him and drove to London. Took the scripts she sent him more seriously. Auditioned. And now… Now he’s waiting. Waiting and running. If somebody thought Harry would stop being fit during his break then they’re going to have a surprise once he’s doing promo for whatever he will be doing promo for again.

He and Liam run almost every day, because they both enjoy mornings.

It’s in a morning run that they get to know each other’s favorite places they’ve ever been and the favorite dish they’ve ever tried. It’s in a morning run that Liam tells Harry about how he became a football player and Harry confides in him why he wanted to be an actor in the first place. It’s in a morning run that Liam tells Harry he might have a girlfriend now. And it’s in a morning run, in this one, today, that Harry whispers under his breath that he misses Louis. And he thinks it’s about time they start talking again.

“I hope you know this whole situation is ridiculous”, Liam comments as they run against the rain; wind blowing harsh in both of their faces.

Harry thinks this is the universe’s way of slapping him on the face for being so stupid. If anything, it’d effective. He’s definitely _feeling_ it.

Slowly, they stop running and start walking. And that’s better, this way Harry can put all the sentiment behind what he wants to say, which, for now, consists of:

“If this is your way of helping me, Liam, cut it out. Cause you have no idea if what you’re talking about.” The actor says.

“So what _am I_ talking about, Harry?” Liam all but rolls his eyes.

“You should ask your friend”, is all Harry gives him back.

“All right.” He sighs. “But H… You’re my friend too, you know? I don’t know what else I have to do for you to believe it.”

Harry’s speechless.

Liam doesn’t do _cute_. He doesn’t do _nice_. Yet…

“Thank you, Li”, Harry says. “I’m a bit rubbish at noticing things, sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” The footballer widens his eyes and laughs. Drinks half a bottle of water. “You’re absolutely rubbish at noticing things all the time”, he laughs. “And what blows is that Louis is too.”

Harry keeps quiet; drinks water too.

“Look, mate…” Liam stops jogging. Liam only stops completely when what he is about to say is really important. Like the time he confessed that he doesn’t really trust the majority of his teammates. “I might not know specifically what I’m ‘talking about’ when it comes to you and Louis, like- I don’t know what you are doing”, he gestures air quotes when he says _talking about_ , and Harry feels it sting a bit, “but you two… I swear to God, you know even less.”

Harry doesn’t let Liam know how much that affects him. As it is, he simply nods and starts running again. Running is good. It’s freeing.

 

-

 

So, Christopher Nolan doesn’t want him. The director will shoot a war movie and Harry won’t be in it. It’s fine, really, like he stated previously Harry isn’t the biggest fan of war movies, but it does suck a bit, to be rejected, that is. Rejected in his love life, rejected in his job. Things are just going great for him these days, aren’t they?

“Stop whining.” Gemma rolls her eyes.

“I haven’t said anything?” He frowns, looking at her.

“You’re complaining too loud in your mind, it’s annoying.” His sister jokes and he simply closes his eyes, resting it on the back of his seat. They’re on a plane right now, 36.000 feet above the ground, and Gemma is making fun of him. “You’ll do great, you know that, right?” She asks.

They’re on their way to LA, and Harry has another audition at the end of the week. It isn’t ideal; he was kind of expecting to find something in Europe for the time being, just because, once again, he got used to living there, but it’s fine – he kind of misses his Los Angeles house anyways.

This movie isn’t an Oscar winning one. At least he doesn’t think so. The director is new and promising, according to Gemma, and everyone talks about the guy. Jeff, his manager in America, also seems to think it’s a good idea, even if it’s a rom com. Harry likes watching them more than he likes acting in them, but he’ll take what he can get to make him less bored at the moment.

There’s just… Nothing going on for him, is there? And it’s almost funny how completely ridiculous his life is. Whilst all the magazines and websites make it seem like it’s so glamorous, Harry’s just going through the motions right now, living one day after the other walking lamely and aimless in life, not really knowing what he is doing.

His mom says it’s part of the growing up process. When he called her, a couple of days ago, Anne said that he needed to start looking at things differently. _You need to stop thinking the universe is against you and understanding that maybe it just has plans that are different than yours_.

Anne’s been very spiritual for many years now, one can say. She’s very connected to the- _things_ in the universe, whatever they are. Being like that is what helped her through the divorce, and helped her with the depression, mainly. Harry thinks he gets what she is saying without scolding him: he has been acting like a teenager when he’s clearly not one anymore.

He’s just confused, is the thing. He wanted a free pass. He wanted to not work for _one_ thing in his life, at least. But that’s not how the world works, now is it? People do not get free passes, no matter how much they want to. Dads leave, moms get sad, you leave home and screw up every possible relationship that you come across because you don’t know what it’s like to be healthy.

Then you pretend to be healthy. And you pretend to be happy. And you push through and you do fine with being a character. And then you meet someone who changes you in the simplest way. But you don’t notice it. Not until you’re on a plane halfway across the world thinking about every wrong step you took.

Not until you’re crying and your sister is holding you and everything seems too scary because of how much you managed to botch up in such little time.

“Hey, H. What’s going on, lil bro?” She asks lowly in his ear. There are people around, and it’s the middle of the night.

Harry isn’t even making noise, but his body’s trembling and she can feel it.

“I don’t know.” He whispers back. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, but I... I think I like Louis more than I thought. And I miss him. And I’m not sad just because of him, but it’s a huge fucking part of why I’ve been a mess lately.” He takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes again. “But that’s all I’m gonna say.”

“Okay.” She kisses his cheek. “It’s gonna be all right, though. You know that, right?”

No, Harry doesn’t. But he is starting to learn.

 

-

 

Los Angeles is everything London isn’t: sunny, big and plastic. Harry doesn’t think people in England have a notion of space, not really. When he came here, everything seemed too far away and spending one hour inside of a car just to get to another neighborhood seemed an insane thought, having grown up with everything and everyone being a walk away. Now he feels lucky if he can make it to his house in forty minutes, when traffic is light.

He feels the breeze in his hair and this always makes him feel part of everywhere. In a way, Harry feels more like himself here. At least his professional self. Being home makes him too… Soft. He thinks.

Upon entering the house the actor is greeted by the smell of food and he almost forgot that someone keeps the house clean and _homey_ for him here when he decides to spend too much time away.

“Welcome back, Mr. Styles”, Margaret greets them. “Miss Styles.”

“Hey, Maggie”, Gemma replies.

“Good to see you”, Harry says too, moving closer to hug her. “Whatever you’re making smells amazing, and I’m hungry.”

“I know. That plane food is horrible, isn’t it?”

“Yes, totally”, he chuckles. “I’m going to shower and then I’ll come back. Want me to take your things upstairs, Gems?”

“No, I’ll shower too, have a meeting in- shoot, two hours.”

“You’re crazy. I’m gonna eat and sleep.” He tells her as they start making their way upstairs.

“No, you won’t. You can’t be jetlagged for your audition. Start getting your metabolism in check”, his sister warns him.

Harry sighs. She’s right. As always.

“All right. Going to call Jeff, see what there is to do around today.”

“ _Now_ we’re talking.” She winks.

 

-

 

You just do it, Harry thinks as he wakes up on Friday, having an epiphany at… Eight o’clock in the morning. You force yourself to get up; you force yourself to put one foot before the other, and you refuse to let it get to you… Whatever it is. You fight. You cry. You curse. Then you go about the business of living. There’s no other way, he figures.

So he sits up and gets ready for work. He’s got an audition to go to.

 

-

 

Zayn Malik is his competition. They’ve met a couple of times at Award Ceremonies and things like that, but as far as Harry knows, Zayn is talented. Not as talented as he is, but… Talented, nonetheless. And Zayn also sings, so, there’s that.

“This is not a musical, for fuck’s sake”, Gemma reminds him, making him laugh loudly. People around stare.

**_Good luck, H. Lemme know how it was_** **.** Cara texts. And then… **_Louis says good luck too_** **.**

“You all right?” His sister checks.

Harry smiles down at his phone.

“I’m okay. I’m ready”, he says. And he is.

The audition goes okay, the actor thinks. There aren’t many people in the room and the scene he has to interpret is a bit basic for his tastes, but it goes all right. Apparently, whoever the male lead is, is going to be the big name of the movie, because the actresses auditioning are all beginners. One of them gets so nervous when she sees Harry that she starts crying and runs away.

It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

Another one simply says _I love you_ , once they’re done. That’s funny.

Zayn thinks so too, because he laughs as soon as Harry’s done with his part.

“Good luck, mate”, Harry says.

“Thanks. Hang around, we could go out for drinks afterwards”, he invites in the coolest way. Leave it to Zayn to _be cool_ inviting someone for drinks.

Harry doesn’t want to be impolite, is the thing. He doesn’t really know Zayn, but they have met and talked, as previously stated. And he’s a decent bloke.

“Sure”, he finds himself saying. “But I’mma sit here and watch you just like you did to me”, he squints his eyes.

“Have at it”, the other actor chuckles and gets ready.

-

 

Gemma doesn’t join them for drinks because she has a skype date with her boyfriend. Zayn’s agent _is very, very boring_ , according to the man himself, so he isn’t invited. The leaves just the two of them, two of the hottest people around – according to Cosmo – going around Culver City like they aren’t famous at all.

They find a nice bar and enter it before they get recognized.

“I think you’re gonna get it”, Zayn says as soon as they order their drinks. “The part, that is. You were better than me.”

“We don’t know that”, Harry shrugs.

“Nah, you do. You’re way more personal.” He chuckles. “My manager thinks I should try and do more girl-friendly movies. Not only is that very offensive to every girl in the world, but it also makes me sick. ‘M not a rom com kinda guy.”

He’s not. Zayn’s thing is action movies. Suspense, too, Harry thinks.

“ _Girl-friendly”,_ Harry scoffs. “The fuck?”

“Gotta hate this world sometimes. You mind?” Zayn then asks as he grabs a cigarette. Harry nods. The other actor lights it up instantly.

“I love rom coms. I just don’t know if I’m ready for all the straight promo again. _If_ I get it.”

“Tell me ‘bout it.” Zayn sighs and Harry widens his eyes. Harry being gay is kind of an open secret in the right circles. But he had no idea about Zayn. “I’m bi”, he clarifies quickly. “My girlfriends were real. Just- no one ever bothered to ask about the guys I used to walk around with.” He shrugs.

“You okay being in the closet?” Harry asks.

“Yeah. I mean- it’s the smart thing to do. Plus it hasn’t gotten in the way of anything yet. If it ever does… Well…” He shrugs again. He’s very laid back. “I’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it.”

“Hm…” The actor hums.

“You wanna come out?”

“Dunno.” Harry replies truthfully. “I think so, at some point. I just didn’t want it to be a thing. Stunting and all. I’ve been lucky, too. But it gets tiring, is all.”

It surprises him how easy it is to talk to Zayn. No one who is in the industry really asks about _Magazine News_ to another fellow in it, however, it seems like it’s all right to do it now; to open up, that is. But maybe it’s the alcohol already kicking in.

Harry just talks. He stops bottling up.

He sees an opportunity in someone who seems to be trustworthy and ready to listen, and he goes on and on about his life as an actor. Zayn shares things with him too. They laugh. They even tease each other a bit. The other actor has something that Harry can relate to, even though right now he can’t really know what is.

But then Zayn speaks again, and it all makes sense.

“Don’t worry”, he says. “We all have boys back home, Harry Styles.”

“We do?” Harry asks. _That’s why he gets it_.

“We do”, Zayn guarantees.

Malik drives him home and wishes him luck with the auditions. They exchange numbers _in case you ever need a friend around_ , and Harry enters the house a bit dizzy, but a bit lighter as well.

 

-

 

Before flying back to England, Harry musters up the courage to text Louis. Finally.

When he touches the ground and his phone beeps, he does everything in his power to control his heartbeats as he reads Louis’ response.         

**_All right then._** The journalist says.

-

 

They meet at a Bookstore of all places, and Harry doesn’t question Louis when he asks him to meet there, just assures him he’ll be at its café at three pm, just like the journalist asked.

“Hey”, Louis says, reaching the table he’s at.

“Hi, Lou”, Harry replies, a bit sheepishly. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem, this is better than our last uh- encounter, at least.” Louis jokes.

Harry turns crimson.

Then he coughs.

“That’s… Not happening anymore. Elisey, I mean.” He manages to say. “And, uh- I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, I suppose.” Louis chuckles. “I- I mean, we can _not_ apologize to each other and let our mistakes cancel out? Maybe?”

“I don’t think so, no.” He replies softly. “Not if we want to be friends again. And I kinda miss you, so hm, like- I was hoping we could? Be friends again.” _Kinda_ is the understatement of the century. But Harry’s trying to go easy on him, not scare him away and all that.

“Yes. Y-yeah, I kinda miss you too. Just a little bit, though.” The journalist teases. And that’s- that’s _so_ Louis of him. Harry spreads a smile before he can even control himself. “’M sorry I was a dick, curly.” Louis then voices, a bit quiet. “I don’t know what else to say, just that… I miss you. And I didn’t think you would-” he squints his eyes, as if he’s trying to push through something he really doesn’t want to say but feels like he has to. “I didn’t think you would have feelings for me. Or, not feelings, but like- something.” He shrugs his shoulders, appearing smaller than usual.

Harry could _cry_.

“Something.” The actor replies, mouth dry. He doesn’t meet Louis’ eyes as he speaks again, afraid that he’s going to be dizzy. “I’m sorry I freaked out like I didn’t know you had someone already. I- missed my window, I guess. And. Yeah.”

“I didn’t know there was a window in the first place, Harry.” Louis finally looks at him. “And I can sit here and tell you that if I _had known_ then maybe-” he takes a deep breath. “But I miss you. You’ve become part of my life, and it is what it is, right? No going back or whatever, just- let’s be friends again. I totally accept your apology, even though it isn’t really necessary now. Do you accept mine?”

Now Harry looks up, straight into Louis’ eyes, and they never cease to mesmerize him. Since that first time they met, Harry’s noticed them. He’s _told_ Louis he noticed them. Louis’ eyes are, in a word, beautiful. Up close, as it is now, Harry dares to call them fascinating.

Harry thinks that they could consume a person just with the stories they tell; stories of bravery, happiness, sorrow, contempt. They’re the stage whose curtains are his long, flowing eyelashes that curl up gently, like the waves during low tide. They’re probably Harry’s favorite thing in Louis.

“Y-yeah.” He says with a bit of a delay. “Yes, let’s just go back to normal, please.” Harry smiles.

And Louis… Louis smiles back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been... Angry.  
> But things are going to start to fall into place again.  
> Have faith.
> 
> All the love as always <3


	13. Chapter 13

        October comes with a whirlwind of emotions. And other things. But mainly emotions. Because Louis and Harry are finding their way back to each other. Not in a romantic way, very unfortunately for Harry, but they’re talking again, and even though it’s a little bit awkward during the first few texts, they quickly relearn how to be comfortable around each other.

In one morning, Louis actually joins Harry and Liam for a run, and they end up laughing more than exercising, because if there is one thing Louis feels offended by is healthy behavior.

“Why the hell did you invite yourself to come running with us if you knew you wouldn’t run for even fifteen minutes?” Liam complains only a little angrily as they slow their pace.

Harry’s okay with running, but jogging isn’t so bad. He understands Liam, though. The footballer needs to be at the top of his game, almost literally, and Harry’s yet to meet someone more committed to his job than Liam.

“I needed to clear my head.” Louis responds. “It’s not like you didn’t know I would stop running. I think I lasted a long while.” He jokes.

“If this is lasting a long while then I’m sorry for your boyfriend.” Liam jokes. Harry chokes on air. Louis snorts.

“Mate- trust me, I have no problem lasting in bed.” The journalist says it and quickly glances at Harry, who averts his gaze almost immediately. It’s not awkward at all. Men talk about sex with each other. It’s normal. They’re all friends.

Harry pretends he isn’t affected and jogs a bit faster, removing himself from the trio. He hears Liam laughing at Louis and making some other joke, but doesn’t catch it as he puts in his earplugs.

Meghan Trainor is on shuffle and the actor instantly puts a smile on his face. He’s always found her first album to be perfect working out material even though half of his gym friends in LA disagreed with him. He doesn’t really care. He sings along under his breath and tries to manage his heartbeats as he notices both Liam and Louis catching up with him.

It’s only when they are halfway across the park that Louis comes to a complete halt, and Harry also stops, right after watching Liam do the same.

“I really don’t wanna do this anymore; there’s gotta be a better way for me to clear my head…” His breath is short and his hair’s glued to his forehead already, and Harry finds him very adorable. “Seriously, what the fuck, I hate running.” He says puffing.

Liam laughs.

“You can stop, mate, no problem.” He places a hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“There’s a smoothie place just across the street. Wanna go there? Recharge?” Harry asks him.

“Uh, yeah, actually. ‘M quite hungry.” He replies.

“You guys go then, I’ll keep running.” Liam tells Harry and Louis, a smile on his face.

“You sure?” Louis asks.

“Yes.” The footballer replies looking at Harry. A smirk on his face. He’s gonna kill Liam.

“Uh- shall we then?” Harry calls Louis, who smiles and nods.

They bid Liam goodbye and watch their friend literally run away before they turn around to cross the street.

It’s a relatively quiet morning for it to be a week day. Harry’s used to seeing a lot more people on the streets at this time, speeding their way through London just so they can get to work faster, and the smoothie place he told Louis about is usually packed with people trying to get breakfast.

But not today. Today they enter it and find a table in the corner, and there are only two other people in line in front of them. Louis tells him to go sit and he’ll deal with their orders, because _someone might steal our place, Harry_. Harry chuckles quietly and does as Louis says.

He sits at the table and fishes his phone out of his pocket, replying to all of the texts he bypassed this morning.

The first one is from his mom, confirming with him that yes, she will come to London on the weekend to visit; Harry is very happy. It’s rare for Anne to want to come here, or go anywhere really. The second one is from Niall, but it’s Gemma texting. They’ve been in Paris for two days now and they look sickly in love. Harry just _can’t_ with _in love people_ right now.

Then comes Nick, Cara, a group chat and Zayn, with whom Harry exchanged numbers in Los Angeles. He’s telling Harry about another audition process he’s going through right now, since he’s _so_ sure Harry’s gonna get the rom-com part, and Harry wishes him good luck with a bunch of x’s because he’s learned that Zayn loathes any kind of affection. He’s laughing through a _fuck you_ the other actor sent him when Louis comes to the table, bearing two smoothies and two sandwiches in hands.

“I can’t believe even sandwiches here are healthy.” He mumbles as he sits across from Harry.

“They’re very good. Thanks for getting me one”, Harry smiles and grabs his.

“It’s not for you, you know how much I hate eating alone.” The journalist sneers and Harry’s smile opens even wider. He’s stupid. “So, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Waiting to hear back from my LA audition… You know Zayn Malik?”

“Yeah.”

“He was there too, we sorta became friends. He thinks I’m gonna get it.”

“I think so too.” Louis says.

“You know nothing, Louis.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I have a good feeling, is all”, he shrugs and then takes a bite at his own sandwich. “Fuck me, this is actually really good.”

“Told ya”, Harry winks. “Hey, what’re you trying to clear your head from? I mean, I’m here if you want to- talk. If I can help.”

“Dunno if you can, mate. It’s something I have to deal with on my own?” The journalist kind of asks. “I’m bored, is the thing. Of my job. Of sports, in general.”

“You’re bored of _sports_?” Harry’s eyes widen.

“Not, like- footie But- the rest.” He chuckles. “Working with it, writing about it… I don’t know. I’ve been feeling it’s just not for me? But I’m also a tiny bit afraid that it might be too late, so. Yeah.”

“Lou.” Harry fonds. He knows he does. “It’s not too late. You’re super young.”

“Not enough to change career paths, Harry.”

“Oh please! Says who? You can do whatever the hell you want.” The actor encourages him. “What do you want to do? Are there options?”

Louis shakes his head.

“I haven’t got this far”, he confesses. “Was just toying with the idea of… Doing something new. Asked for some overdue vacation next month, let’s see…” He sighs. “Sorry to unload on you, by the way.”

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s what friends are for, right?” Harry asks.

“Yeah…” Louis trails. “Ashton thinks that I’m just tired because these last couple of months have been really… Intense. He thinks I’ll be okay to go back after my vacation.”

“What do you think?”

“I think I’ve already made up my mind and just need a little push towards that direction.” He looks down.

“Louis?” The actor calls his name. Louis looks up again. “I’m giving you that push.” And, for effect, he actually pushes Louis by the arm.

The journalist laughs.

“You bloody idiot…” He trails. “Thank you.” Louis then says in a smaller voice.

“You’re welcome.”

 

-

 

All in all, Harry thinks October is an interesting month. He gets back to work for real. Well, sort of. He does two interviews and goes back to attending important events. He also gets a call from LA saying that he was, indeed, chosen for the rom-com movie, and that they want to start the shooting process as soon as possible, so he needs to get his ass to Los Angeles next month and… Shit, is he ready for that?

Physically speaking, yes, he is. Harry can’t wait to go back to work, to meet new people, to memorize new lines and record something new. Mentally though… It’s a challenge. He calls Niall before he calls his sister, and it’s only when he asks _you’re not used to being unsure, are you?_ that Harry snaps out of it.

Because here’s the thing: he isn’t. Since a very young age Harry Styles knew what he wanted. He wanted to provide for his family; he wanted to, somehow, entertain people, being the show off he’s always been. Right now, though… Right now he doesn’t know how to move forward.

The catch at the end of the day is the scariest of them all: what if your plans work and you don’t know what to do with them? _What if you get to a point in which success in your professional life isn’t enough anymore?_ What if you’re not even twenty five when that happens? How do you go on?

That’s what he asks Niall. All of that. To what Niall responds, simply and carelessly as ever: “you make a new plan, mate”. And Harry can almost _see_ him shrugging. Honestly, he wants to laugh. But he doesn’t. He thanks him, hangs up, and makes a new plan.

Harry Styles wants to win awards, and he wants to build a family.

It’s an epiphany, really. And even though it will probably be redundant to say that it comes at the most unexpected time, he has to, since he’s on _twitter_ of all the freaking places, and he’s stalking Ryan Reynolds (because of course he is), and he can’t stop laughing at the man’s tweets. He’s just the _best_ and has the most insightfully ridiculous tweets ever about his kid and married life.

_I want that_ , he finds himself whispering to his phone screen. And from then on he decides that when he’s ready, he’ll start one.

Now, it must be a difficult thing to do, especially because there’s the whole problem with the not having someone to be with thing, but he figures he’s got two options at this time and place: one, he can wait for a few more years to see if he meets someone, after all, he’s got time. And two, he can try and start a family by himself. A lot of people do it. Cristiano Freaking Ronaldo did it (even though Harry suspects he’s dating his very good friend Ricky). The point is: Harry has a plan.

He will keep working on getting better and better. He’ll keep on being close to his family. He’ll keep on shoving his feelings for Louis down his own throat. And he’ll focus on the big picture he’s just drawn for himself. And then maybe, somewhere along the way, stars will align and everything will fall into place.

 

-

 

Also in October, Cara’s flat goes back to being the place where _the gang_ spends time together. Not that there is a gang in the first place; it’s mostly Cara, Harry and Louis, but sometimes Annie, Ashton and Liam join them, so. Maybe it’s a _little gang?_ Or a squad? Harry really doesn’t like the word squad. He also doesn’t feel very comfortable when Ashton is there, but it honestly happens so rarely that he simply deals with it.

Louis is back to looking at him softly and giving him all his attention when they’re in a group conversation, so the actor counts it as a win.

Today’s just the three of them, though. Cara’s throwing a big Halloween Party at what they got used to calling her “fake house”, and everyone is going. Including a bunch of famous people Harry hasn’t seen in forever. And others he is sure will pretend to know him even though they’ve never met.

But it will be fun. At least that’s what the two besties convince him of while they’re finishing up the last details for the 31st.

“Plus, we will be matching, Harry. _Matching_. It will be gold! So many great instagram pictures!” Cara shakes him by the arms and Harry chuckles a bit.

“Oh, fuck, I need to call Gemma and see if she got my hat!” He remembers.

He and Cara are going as _Bonnie and Clyde_. It’s not original at all, but _classic is perfect_ , her publicist said. Whatever. Harry’s not too bothered. He’ll get to see his sister wear a couple’s costume as well and make fun of her for all of eternity… So, the party will probably be fucking good.

“Hey…” Louis finds him in the kitchen, and Harry would like to say he is a controlled person, but his mind flashes to the exact moment this happened months and months ago; when he promised Louis that this was _all harmless flirting_. Honestly, months and months ago Harry, _fuck you_. “Cara’s just hired a beer fountain.” The journalist tells him.

“What?” Harry chuckles. “Aren’t champagne fountains the… Normal thing?”

“Has that girl _ever_ been normal, Harold? Honestly”, Louis snorts and then grabs a strawberry from the fruit bowl Harry’s just taken out of the fridge. “Is this good?”

“Looks good. Since when do you eat fruit?” Harry asks interested.

“I… Don’t.” Louis looks down at it between his fingers, and then he lets it go, puts it back on the bowl and uses both hands to sit on the sink counter, facing Harry, who takes the stool at the island and starts organizing different fruits on his place. Between the two of them, he’s the healthy freak. Clearly.

“Is there anything you wanna talk about, Lou?”

“Uh- yes.” He replies way more softly than the actor expected. “Do you…” He takes a deep breath. “Do you talk to your dad? Ever?”

Harry frowns instantly. So, it’s a serious conversation then. Okay. Harry’s never told Louis the entire story, the sordid, terrible, _miserable_ details of his childhood; but Louis gets the idea by now, from the bits and pieces Harry’s commented about before.

He prepares himself to answer. Family talk – or, well, _this_ part of the family talk – is never a good talk.

“On occasion. Like- three times a year, maybe?” He tries to smile and fails. “Not really. I mean. He left, yeah? He never asked me for anything after I got famous and rich… But he also never tried getting close to me, so… I don’t see a point in reaching out to him. Not when he fucked off like me and Gemma never existed, or like he’d never loved mom.” Harry’s honest about it. More honest than he’s been in a while. But then again that’s how it’s been with them. Since day one. “Why do you ask?”

“Remember what I told you about my dad?” Louis looks at him. Harry simply nods trying to read the expression on the other man’s face. For the first time, Louis is unreadable. It’s disarming. “Fizzy wants to go see him. And mom said that the only way she can do it is if I go with her. I don’t think it’s fair. I _know_ it isn’t fair, but I…”

“Louis.” Harry says his name in earnest. “No. It isn’t fair.”

“But I have to, right?” He looks at Harry as if he holds the answer to everything. Harry doesn’t know what to say. “I mean, yes, he destroyed our lives and he-” Louis looks up, as if he’s trying not to drop any tears. “He kept us in the dark and lied for years and years, but he… He’s their father, right? Fizz should be able to see him if she wanted to.”

“He’s your father too.” The actor offers. “And you should be able to _not_ see him if you wanted to.” He pauses. “What did Ashton say? And Cara?”

“Cara thinks I should do whatever the hell I want. I haven’t told Ashton anything about my father. We just don’t- talk about it.”

“Oh.” Harry says. “Okay, uh. I agree with Cara. But then again we aren’t in your place, so there’s no way we could- no way I could-”

“You relate to it better, though.”

“I guess. Your dad left you without anything. Mine left me with a depressed mom.”

“Shit, H.”

“And I… I told you I still love him, right?” Harry checks, if only a bit rhetorically. “Cause I do. It isn’t really rational, but I guess the question is… Do you still love your dad? Because it all sums up to it: love.”

Louis sighs.

“I honestly don’t know. If I do this… It’ll be out of love for Fiz.” His voice is so low Harry almost misses it.

“I guess it is decided then, isn’t it, Lou?” The actor asks, getting a bit closer. “Hey…” Louis looks at him. “Hug?” Harry opens his arms.

The moment Louis sags into it is the moment both of them feel warm. Louis’ clutches to Harry’s jumper and Harry nuzzles into his hair.

“I’m scared.” He says, mouth pressed to Harry’s chest and voice muffled by the thick cotton fabric.

“You can do it.” Harry whispers and then tightens his grip around Louis. “You can do it.

Louis thanks him and recomposes. They hug once again and decide to go call Cara to watch a movie. Louis with popcorn, the model and the actor with the plate of fruit Harry prepared.

At the end of the night, Louis looks at him with the hint of a smile on his face and asks: _see you at the party tomorrow then?_

“Couldn’t let my girlfriend down.” He winks and Cara slaps his shoulder.

Louis laughs. Loudly.

He’s okay.

-

 

On the 31st of October, something good happens – but to Louis, it is actually the start of a nightmare.

Louis wakes up without an alarm and smiles into his pillow first thing in the morning. He loves it when he can wake up with a bed all for himself, a flat all for himself, no one to talk to, no noise being made, no… Nothing. Just the peace of yet another grey day beginning outside, and the knowledge that he doesn’t have much to do. 

He gets out of bed around ten thirty, but just because he remembers that the woman from the costume store will be here any minute now to deliver his and Ashton’s clothes. Louis eats the shittiest pancake he’s ever made, but he chews it all happily. It’s just… A really good morning, is all.

Plus, he has a good feeling for the party tonight. Ashton doesn’t have to work tomorrow so they’ll get drunk together for the first time in… Ever, Louis thinks. Liam is going with his new girl, Lottie said she’d try to show up; he and Harry are on great terms. So. Life is good.

He chats with his mom on the phone, tells her he’ll go visit his father with Fizzy as soon as his head clears up a bit, and then watches TV till after lunchtime.

At three, Ashton arrives. He’s usually quiet, but today he looks weird. Antsy. Louis doesn’t make much of it until they’re sat on the sofa and his boyfriend turns down the volume of the TV.

“All right?” Louis asks him.

“We should talk.”

Scratch antsy. Ashton looks proper _nervous_.

“Sure, are you okay?”

“Yes.” He closes his eyes. “Yes, I guess.” Then he opens it. “I got a job offer.”

“A… Job offer?” Louis asks.

“Yes.” The Australian man answers, a small smile wanting to appear. “I… You know how I’ve been doing freelance work for the magazine for the past few months?” Louis nods. “My Australian company kind of lent me to them, yeah? So, like, I was supposed to go back in December.” Louis is also very aware of that. “But the magazine offered me a position. This morning. They- they asked me to stay. Here. In London. Permanently. If I wanted to.”

_All… Right… Then._

Louis’ mind is slow. He doesn’t really know what to respond, and he doesn’t know if there _is_ a right way to respond. Should he celebrate?

He decides to ask the obvious question for now.

“Would you like to stay?” The journalist voices.

“Would you want me to stay?” Ashton asks back. Louis frowns. “I mean- I feel like this is a decision we should take together? I don’t know. Thought I’d ask.”

“Ash… I think that… That I don’t want to be part of this decision like a… Like a defining factor.” Louis says carefully. “I can help you, though. Make a list of pros and cons, I don’t know. It is a big deal.” He pauses. “Why would you stay?”

“Money’s decent.” He shrugs. “London’s quite pleasant, albeit a bit grey. I like the people I work with. And I love _you_.” Ashton says it so easily that it almost goes unnoticed to Louis the bomb that has just been dropped onto him. “You may not want to be a defining factor, but Lou… You are.”

Holy shit.

Louis takes deep breaths. Yes, deep breaths help.

_I love you. I love you. I love you_. Ashton told him he _loved_ Louis.

And Louis can’t say it back. He doesn’t _feel_ it back. Has never even crossed his mind. He _likes_ Ashton. He’s not- he’s not in love with him and holy fucking shit this man loves him.

“Say something, Louis.”

“I…” The journalist starts. “I think you should… You should put me in your cons list, cause I-”

“You don’t love me back.” Ashton states as if this is no news to him. “But you could. Eventually. If we had time.”

“I don’t want you to resent me a year from now, Ash.” Is what he chooses to say.

“Are you telling me to go?” He asks. He wants definite answer, Louis notices, and the journalist can’t, for the life of him, give him one.

“I’m telling you to make a decision by yourself.”

“And I’m telling you that if you want me to stay, then I’m going to stay.”

“It’s not up to _me!_ ” Louis explains for the hundredth time. “I’m not going to _ask_ you to stay for _me_ , Ashton, don’t you get it?” He gets up. “I like you, I like what we have, but we are not-”    

“What? Worth it?” The photographer snorts, getting up. “Please, do say what you think about our relationship, Louis.”

“I think it’s nice.” He chooses to say. “I thought it wasn’t- I didn’t think you would- _look_.” Louis calls Ashton. “I like you.” He says it again. “I like what we have. But what we have is _not_ worth you moving permanently to a country that is ages away from your family, and your closest friends. And your real life.”

“Fuck, you _are_ a dick, aren’t you?”

“I try not to be. A dick. I fail, most of the time.” Louis confesses.

“Holy shit, Louis, I _fell_ for you.” Ashton throws it at his face once again.

“I’m sorry.” The journalist looks down, voice small. “I really am, Ash.”

And that’s it, then.

Ashton grabs the things he had left in Louis’ flat the past few months and Louis watches it as if he can’t really believe his eyes.

Because truth be told… He didn’t know what he was doing. Not until Ashton told him he loved him and he would move countries for their relationship to work. That seemed like one hell of an effort for someone and Louis Tomlinson isn’t worth all of that; definitely since he wouldn’t do the same for him. No.

He’s said it once and he’ll say it again: he won’t change his life for someone else. He won’t leave his family and his home country for a relationship. He can’t take the thought of someone doing it for him either.

It would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic. Maybe he  _ isn’t _ capable of love at the end of the day. Maybe he just exists to hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt. First Harry. Now Ashton. Who’s the fucking next?

“Guess you’re not going to the party then?” The journalist asks when his boy-  _ ex _ -boyfriend shows up in the living room again, a backpack hanging from his right shoulder.

Ashton simply snorts.

“This sucks big time, Louis.” He says.

“I know. And I know you don’t believe me, but it sucks for me too. For what it’s worth.”

To his credit, Ashton doesn’t make fun of him. He simply nods and says goodbye. Louis finds it a clean break up, and, as sad as he is, because it’s never nice to lose someone you like, he’s also at peace, knowing he didn’t lie to him, and that he can, in fact, move on.

 

-

 

He gets at the party later than he should.

Louis called Cara earlier and told her what happened, asked her to keep it quiet, and warned her he wouldn’t get there as early as he’d previously thought. She understood, said it was okay, and her only request was for Louis to show up at all. Which, to be honest, wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t. It isn’t.

Since Liam had to pick up his girl, Louis actually rides with Niall and Gemma, who, to his surprise, treats him as if she’d actually missed him. They talk in the car all the way to the party, and Louis finds it awesome that in their matching costumes, Niall is the one who’s dressed like a girl.

“That’s me, always defining gender stereotypes”, she says.

Louis can totally see where Harry gets his wittiness from.

So, the party. It is big and it is loud, much like every one of Cara’s parties usually are. Louis says hi to everyone he knows and waves at the ones he still doesn’t.

“We drinking tonight, Tommo?” Niall asks slinging one arm around Louis’ shoulder.

“Nialler… You have no idea.” He chuckles and follows the Irishman towards the bar.

Louis gets  _ drunk _ .

First it’s just a pleasant buzz. He dares Harry to drink with them and Harry politely declines the shots and the drinks, opting for not mixing beer with anything else. According to him, there are too many eyes around. And he’s right. Not everyone who is here is actually a friend, but luckily for Louis he’s got nothing to hide, except, maybe, his impulse to separate his best friend and the curly boy when they start grinding on the dancefloor for the  _ snapchatters _ around.

Liam holds him back with a knowing look, and Louis shrugs and rolls his eyes. He just wants to  _ dance _ , he says, and makes his way to the center of the living room, finding his best friend and the actor laughing loudly at their position because “it’s just so ridiculous”, Cara yells. Nobody but the two of them hear it anyways.

“Where’s Ashton by the way?” Harry asks as they form a small circle.

“Just us lads tonight”, the journalist.

“Bros being bros and all that.” Cara teases and walks away, leaving just the two of them there.

“Is that why you’re drinking like there’s no tomorrow, then?” The actor questions him again.

“Does it matter, Harold?” He asks back, a smirk on his face to hide every other emotion. Louis downs the rest of his drink.

“Not really, no. Have fun. We’ll take care of you, Lou.”

_ I’ll take care of you _ is what Louis hears. And he lets go.

 

-

 

“Whoa, hey there, you need some water?” Nick fucking Grimshaw asks him when Louis enters the kitchen. Stumbles into it. Whatever.

“Why, you gon’ poison it?” He slurs the words. Fuck it. He doesn’t care. His life’s upside down. Actually, everything is upside down at the moment.

“Such little faith, mate…” Nick smiles.

“I got it, Grimmy.” Louis registers Harry’s deep voice in there too, and turns around very slowly to see the actor with a stupid smile on his face.

“You two together again?” He asks before he can stop himself. Louis hates it when he’s drunk. But then again, it’s so much better.

“No, you idiot.” Nick rolls his eyes. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He says and grabs his beer before exiting the kitchen again.

“Sit down, will ya?” Harry asks.

“I’m fine Harry.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.” The actor responds. “Are things spinning, though?”

“A lil bit.”

“So sit down.”

Louis does. He sits between the island and the sink counter, and stretches his legs, resting his head back. He closes his eyes for just a second, and then Harry’s there by his side, handing him a bottle of water. The irony isn’t lost on Louis. This is how they met. This is where they were.

He doesn’t smile, is too lazy for that, but his heart grows fonder somehow.

Harry waits with him until things stop spinning. He’s on his phone, scrolling through Instagram and sometimes even opens Pinterest; but he’s  _ there _ . He’s there and he doesn’t make Louis talk and he’s just- such a good friend. Louis is glad that they’re good now. He missed Harry more than he let on. Likes him more than he would admit too.

The journalist talks before his thoughts get dumber.

“I told mom I’m gonna go with Fizz.” He says weakly. Harry stops scrolling and pays attention to Louis’ immediately. “I think deep down even  _ mom _ would like to visit him. I mean, they loved each other, yeah? They seemed to.”

“They never fought, yeah?” Harry asks gently.

“No.” Now Louis smiles. “No, they were- I think I told you that… They were perfect until they weren’t.”

“You did.”

“I never properly resented mom. I know it wasn’t her fault, like, any of it. But for a while there, after he- after he got arrested and my life was hell, I couldn’t help but wonder  _ what if I’d been born in a different family? _ It’s stupid now, looking back, I know but- I don’t know.” He sighs. “Maybe it fucked me up more than I realized.”

“My parents were always fighting.” Is how Harry responds. “They weren’t very supportive of each other from what me and Gem can remember, and mom wasn’t very supportive of me… I used to be bitter about it. Like- maybe not on the surface, but, like you said, deep down I…. I was always kind of caught up on how my life could’ve been different if I had better parents. How things would have been different if  _ x, y  _ and  _ z _ had happened.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks Harry, and feels the hope grow inside of himself. Maybe he isn’t the only ungrateful bastard in the world.

“Yeah. But then you get older and you realize maybe they didn’t have the capacity to give you what you needed; they couldn’t understand you, just like you couldn’t understand them. You realize they were dealing with their own disappointments, and you even start to think…  _ Maybe I could’ve been a better son _ .” He finishes.

“Holy shit, yes.” Louis sighs. “That’s actually… That’s exactly how I feel.”

“Are going to visit your dad in jail with your sister because you want to do it for her or because you’re feeling guilty of the thoughts you had when you could barely understand life?”

It should be too much, to talk about this. But Louis has alcohol in his system. And this is Harry by his side. The person he’s always trusted, since the very beginning without really knowing why.

It’s not too much, so Louis does respond him honestly.

“Maybe a bit of both.” He says eventually.

Trust makes you do strange things.

 

-

 

Around one am, when Louis can’t think of drinking anymore that Harry offers him a ride home. It’s been a hell of a long time since they were in the same car together.

They say goodbye to everyone and Liam hugs them both super tight, saying he couldn’t be happier that the gang is back together. Harry chuckles and hugs him back, but Louis gets out of his embrace to go say goodbye to his best friend.

“See you sometime this week, babe.” He says. He’s still a bit tipsy, but his head isn’t spinning anymore.

Cara, drunk as she is, pulls him in to give him a fierce hug.

“You be fucking careful with him, Louis, or I swear to God.” She whispers.

“We’re friends, Cara.” He repeats.

“And you be fucking careful with yourself too.” The model replies and lets him go. All right then.

The drive is peaceful. Silent. Mostly because they don’t talk. The radio isn’t on either, but- they don’t talk. It’s only when Harry pulls up in front of Louis’ building that he turns to him with curiosity written all across his face.

“Are you happy, Lou?”

_“Happy as a broken man can be.”_ He sing-songs, quoting John Mayer.

Louis smiles. Harry doesn’t.

“What happened, hm?” The actor asks instead. Louis sighs.

“I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, Hazz. Screwed that up too.” He shrugs.

“Shit.” Harry chuckles nervously. “You do like to be dramatic in cars, don’t you?” He yes him. “Shit, Lou, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” Louis replies sincerely. “Plus, it’ll be all right, yeah? Yes. It will.” He responds his own question. Harry doesn’t say anything. “Okay. I- I’m gonna get going. Thank you. For- for taking care of me.”

“Anytime.” The actor smiles his million-dollar smile. “Drink more water; take pills; sleep.” He says as Louis opens the door.

“Will do, mom.” Louis can only see Harry showing him his tongue because he refrains from rolling his eyes.

Harry laughs loudly as Louis shows his back.

Yeah. It will be all right. It will all be all right.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're... Getting there.  
> Hold on.
> 
> :*


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, lovelies!  
> Thanks so much for your comments, they've been making me so happy!  
> Compared to the others, this chapter is a bit longer, but necessary nonetheless.  
> I hope you like it.

 

Harry is back in LA at the beginning of November to finally start working again. It’s exhilarating knowing that he will be back on set, meeting new people, memorizing new lines, because this is why he does what he does: getting to be someone else, making new friends; not the stunts, not the fame, not even all the money.

He thinks his schedule is pretty okay for now, but maybe it’s because it’s the end of the year and everyone’s already feeling way too generous with the holidays approaching. The director of the movie, a man named Ben Winston, is nothing but polite. He was the one who casted Harry and he’s also the first person Harry sees when he arrives at the office building where they’ll be reading the script for the next two weeks.

“Harry Styles, good to have you here”, the director smiles and gives him a half hug. Harry sometimes forgets how fake-nice people in Hollywood are.

“Thanks for having me”, he smiles. “Hi, everyone.” The actor waves and the other actors smile and wave back. They all seem very excited to be here.

“Hi, Harry”, says Casey, the girl he did the screening with voices, and he walks towards her, finding an empty space by her side.

“How you doing?” He asks politely.

“Great. This still seems surreal.” She responds.

“Casey’s this season’s new discovery, and I hope you all make her feel comfortable till she gets the gist of things. We expect big things from you, kid.” Ben says.

“Way to make her less nervous”, Harry jokes and everyone around chuckles.

“Okay, that’s it then.” Ben looks around. “Right in front of you you’ll find your scripts with yours and everyone else’s parts. For the next couple of weeks we are going to rehearse it here and see how everyone interacts. I like my casts to get to know each other so they can have chemistry on and off screen; trust me, it is important, especially for a rom-com…” He sighs. “We’re only missing one, but I think we can-”

“Sorry I’m late.”  _ Zayn _ of all people enter the room, and a smirk appears on his face as soon as he sees Harry.

“What are you doing here?” Harry whispers way too loud to be considered a whisper in the first place.

“He’ll be Casey’s other love interest.”

“You bastard, you didn’t tell me you were coming!” He gets up in an instant and hugs the other actor.

“Have you ever heard of  _ the element of surprise,  _ Harry?” Zayn chuckles. He  _ chuckles _ , that’s rare. “I auditioned for more than one part, you prick.”

“And now I have two major heartthrobs on my cast, isn’t that perfect?” Ben clasps his hands and sits at the head of the table. Zayn and Harry snorts at the same time and also proceed to sit down. “ _ Now _ , shall we start?”

 

-

 

For most part, everything goes well. Everybody is still getting to know each other, so of course there’s some bumps on the road. Different actors interpret different scenes, well,  _ differently _ , which is why they have a whole team of producers and a director, to tell them what the common ground is.

Around three in the afternoon Winston calls a coffee break, and Harry’s relieved to know that he’ll finally be able to stand on his own two feet. His favorite part of acting is the action of it all, not the non-glamorous, pre-recording part. Definitely not.

“So, Harry Styles…” Zayn starts.

“I hate you”, Harry mumbles. “You could’ve told me, you know?” He pretends to be pissed for zero point two seconds.

“And ruin your  _ o- _ face? Not a chance, buddy.”

“Zayn, I am sorry to inform you, but that is  _ not _ my  _ o _ -face.” The actor says seriously as he places a hand on Zayn’s shoulder.

“Piss off, you dirty-minded asshole.” He shoves Harry lightly. “I need to smoke a cigarette.”

“And I need to eat.” Harry says as they leave the room together. “Also: mingle. Meet people. You should try.” 

“I will.” The other actor assures him. “But first, a cigarette.”

Harry rolls his eyes and follows everybody into the snacks area.

People are nice to him. He is nice to people. End of story, really, because he’s in the middle of a conversation when Louis texts him and, honestly,  _ what is more important? _

**_Harold, I am boooreeeeed._ **

Harry totally doesn’t smile when he reads it and imagines the journalist’s voice. He doesn’t.

**It’s nine pm there, Lou, go to bed.**

**_I am not eighty, thank you very much._ ** Harry can almost hear his voice. He rests his back on a wall and chuckles lightly.

Then another message comes.

**_What are you up to?_ **

**At work.** He replies.  **Turns out Zayn’s here. He auditioned for another part.**

**_That’s nice. You guys are friends, right?_ **

**Sorta.**

**_What does that mean?_ **

**Means we’ve met a month or so ago. We’re… Acquaintances at this point** **_._ **

**_Did you swallow a dictionary before going to work today?_ **

**Shut up.** Harry rolls his eyes at his own phone. Shit. He’s got it bad.

**_Can’t. Need my phone to type for me because I am too lazy._ **

Harry laughs.

“You look ridiculous”, comes Zayn’s voice by his side. “Who’re you texting? Weren’t you supposed to be mingling?”

“I… I did mingle. Now I’m talking to my- friend.” Harry smiles. Not convincingly, by the way.

**_There. Now I’m typing._**

**_Haaaaaaarold._**

“Is it your boy from the UK?” Zayn raises an eyebrow.

“He’s not mine.” He tells Zayn, then replies the text.

**Sorry. Work calls. I’ll text you when I’m out and if you’re not sleeping we can facetime? Maybe?**

The answer comes seconds later.

**_I’ll be awake_** **.**

When Harry looks up, Zayn’s still staring at him.

“He’s not mine.” He repeats.

“But you want him to beee…” His _acquaintance_ sing-songs.

Harry doesn’t deny it; he simply shakes his head and says something along the lines of _we can’t all get what we want_ and strides towards a group he hasn’t talked to properly yet. Zayn follows him and together they meet more people, getting called back into the reading room only ten minutes later.

In the evening, when Harry gets home, he texts his mother and his sister. Then Niall. He tells them about his day, and to each one of them he gives different kinds of details. He shoots Liam a text too, but he’s almost sure the footballer is asleep, so he leaves his phone on the bedside table to shower and then finally call Louis later, maybe while he cooks something to eat.

The hot water does wonders to his body. Harry closes his eyes and rolls his neck to both sides feeling his bones cracking and his muscles relaxing. It’s been a long, tiring, cold day.

Los Angeles isn’t freezing, it never really is, but it’s very cold, nonetheless. Harry woke up feeling cold and went to work feeling cold, and in between he was too focused on the script to pay attention to it, but he must’ve felt cold too. He thinks, and maybe it’s just an assumption, that the reason as to why he was – _is_ – feeling too damn cold in this too big of a city, and now in this too big of a house, is because he’s lonely.

And then it hits him, almost at the same time the water hits his shoulder, he misses Louis. He misses Louis in a way he’s never had him, and maybe that hurts even more.

Because even now, when he is 5,442.20 miles (8,758.37Km) away, all he can think of is that Louis can’t sleep; that he needs to finish his shower and call him and make sure he’s okay. Because it’s already so late there. Because he said he’d be awake anyways, waiting for Harry to call.

The actor closes the shower tap and steps out with his head spinning. _It’s all because of him_ : the idea of settling down, wanting to build a family, everything. Louis made Harry want everything and Louis doesn’t even want Harry that way.

It’s seven pm in LA, one am in London when Harry picks up his phone to facetime the journalist.

Louis answers not even ten seconds later, already in bed, a soft smile on his face.

_“Tell me everything ‘bout your first day, Harold, and please, give me all the boring details.”_

Harry chuckles, swallows hard, pretends he’s not extremely overwhelmed by seeing his face on the tiny screen of his own phone. Then he sucks it up, decides he’s going to keep his promise and be the best friend Louis has ever had, and starts telling him about his day.

The journalist is yawning fifteen minutes into their conversation, and when Harry jokes about being _really boring_ , Louis’ reply takes his breath away:

_“No, you aren’t. I really wanna hear about your day.”_

“But you’re sleepy now. You weren’t fifteen minutes ago.” Harry argues, a smile playing on his lips.

_“I think I just needed to talk to you before bed, to be honest.”_ Louis doesn’t face the screen. _“I kinda miss you, Harold.”_

“Miss you too, Lou.” He replies, voice lower than it was before. “Go to sleep.”

_“I will.”_ Another yawn. _“G’night, Hazz_.”

“Night.” _I love you_.

 

-

 

Cara is in Paris, Harry is in Los Angeles, Liam is with his girlfriend, and Louis is alone in London for the first time in what it feels like forever. Which is why he’s the only one to give himself a push to get off of the freaking couch and finally gather the courage to go talk to his boss.

Upon entering the office Louis is nervous; there’s no way for him not to be, because this is Simon Cowell he is facing. The man runs an empire and is a worldwide reference when it comes to anything related to _giving news_ , especially _sport_ news, so Louis is bound to be at least a little nervous.

The building itself is enormous, pompous. Louis worked there during his first year, from nine to five, until he got released into the world, but he never really got used to it if he’s being perfectly honest.

He makes his way up to the twentieth floor, and when the doors open, his heart races. Simon is already there, waiting for him with his hands clasped on his front and a smirk on his face. Louis never really understood this expression of his. He thinks he never will, but he’s fine with it.

“Louis, what a pleasure to have you here in the building again!” He says as soon as Louis approaches him.

“Hi, Simon.” The journalist smiles politely. “Good to see you too.”

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He sits on one side of the couch and Louis takes the other.

If there’s one thing he likes about Simon – well, he has to admit, there are a few things he likes about Simon – is the fact that he never really puts a table between them, unless there’s food on it.

“Uh- this can be pretty quick, actually.” He says. Simon gestures for him to go on. “I think I… I need to resign.”

“Come again?”

“I- am bored. Journalism is boring me. Writing pieces about different kinds of sports I don’t even care about is driving me insane. So. I guess I need to resign? Right?” Louis asks.

Simon Cowell laughs. Oud loud, Louis might add. It’s not scary. Except for the fact that it totally is. It gives Louis chills and creeps him out.

“You’re bored?” His boss asks and laughs again. “You’re bored!”

“Yeah.”

“And you wanna quit?”

“Yes?”

“Louis. Grow the fuck up.” Simon tells him, a stern assemble accompanying his tone. “This is the real world. You’re going to quit this job and get another one where?”

“I don’t know, Si.” He sighs. “But I’m antsy and not happy and I need a change of scenery.”

“Are you done with all the sports in the world, then?”       

“No, ‘s not that. I still love football.”

“What if you got a break from all the other sports, then? Say, what if I sent you to Spain to cover an exclusive football event? Think you’d be bored then?” A small smile plays on his boss’s face.

Louis doesn’t know why Simon would do it. But. Well.

“I don’t think I’d be bored then. No.” He answers after swallowing hard.

Louis knows exactly what Simon is talking about. A museum in Spain is offering an exhibit of all the best things the football world has ever offered, and every day football players from all over the world go there to visit and give interviews. Pelé is going, for Christ’s sake. Louis never thought he’d be able to go, and- well. Let’s just say he _would_ get at least half-hard for an event like this one.

“So I suggest you pack your bags, ‘cause your plane leaves tomorrow morning.”

That’s how Louis finds himself in Barcelona on a cold November Thursday.

Everyone was really excited for him when he told them he’d be coming, but Harry was, unsurprisingly, the only one who actually understood, _understands_ how happy Louis was.

_“You’re gonna interview fucking Beckham, Lou!”_ He says for the hundredth time when he calls the minute Louis’ plane lands in Spain.

“I know. I’m shitting myself to be honest.” Louis replies with a chuckle. “I woke up super early and now it’s almost eleven am, I need to get ready for lunch and then work. Fuck.” He yawns as soon as he curses. “What time is it there by the way?”

_“Seven thirty-six pm”,_ Harry responds. _“Can you believe I’m actually sleepy?_ Today was crazy.”

“Yeah? Wanna tell me about it?” He asks as he hails a cab. “Just a sec”, Louis asks again just so he can give the hotel address to the driver; his Spanish isn’t the best and the driver speaks a very poor English, but they manage to communicate somehow. “Okay, you’re good.” He tells Harry.

_“Uh- so, there’s nothing much, really. This girl Casey is really star-struck by everything still, so it’s a bit hard to get through a reading with her fully concentrating on whatever we’re doing. Don’t know how it’s gonna be when we actually start filming…”_

“Which is?”

“ _Next week, hopefully. Then we stop for the holidays and go back in January.”_ Harry says. Then he proceeds to tell Louis everything. He tells him about his character and the parts he’s having trouble with getting through, and Louis finds that he doesn’t mind listening to him at all.

Louis has always been very fidgety, and a tad bit hyperactive, one would say. He just can’t really stay still or focus on one thing for a long time; he’s always getting bored. But… Not with Harry. They’ve been talking almost every day, and listening to him is as easy as counting from one to ten.

Louis actually _likes_ to know about his day; to hear his voice when he’s excited and coo at his yawns when Harry’s really tired. Talking to him on facetime has become his favorite activity before going to bed. The time difference hasn’t been a problem to their friendship at all; if anything, it’s just made Louis realize how much he needs Harry in his life.

Because yes, Louis Tomlinson has grown to _need_ Harry. It’s a strange thing, considering that the last person he thought he _needed_ wound up behind bars. Apart from his mom and Cara, the journalist really doesn’t need people, doesn’t depend on them. Not even Liam, who’s one of his best friends.

Yet somehow he finds himself needing the actor. And Harry, who’s currently halfway across the world, hasn’t given him any indication that he won’t be anything but present whenever Louis calls. Louis doesn’t know what it means, but he knows that he likes it. Craves it, even. And for now knowing this is enough.

He gets to the hotel in half an hour, and now it’s his time to tell Harry how his flight was and what he is expected to do today or tomorrow. As it has been previously stated, Louis is quite eager to what he is about to do. It’s no secret to anyone what a major fan of Beckham he is, and the fact that Harry shares that with him makes his insides go all mushy. Louis doesn’t dwell on _that._

Instead, he puts the actor on speaker as he settles down is his hotel room – after asking him to hold in line for ten minutes while he checked in, holding his laughter back as Harry told really stupid jokes on the other line – just so he can unpack and freshen up. He talks to Harry as if Harry were here by his side, and a part of him – or his whole being, really – wishes Harry were. Louis doesn’t dwell in that either.

“So, now I’m supposed to head down to lunch and then go to the event.” He tells Harry, finally checking himself on the mirror and seeing if his clothes are good enough. “Don’t know if I’m well dressed, but-”

_“Thought the only man you dressed for was Jesus_. _”_ Harry jokes. Jesus, that was such a long time ago. It was on Louis’ first date with _Ashton_. And Harry _remembers_.

“I’m about to meet David Beckham, Harry. There’s a big chance I’ll die on the spot and meet Jesus himself right after. It’s just precaution.” He smiles cheekily and applies cologne, picking up his phone from the sink counter and finally taking it off speaker. He hears Harry snort on the other side. “Okay. Wish me luck?”

“ _You don’t need it. You’ll be amazing. You know that, right?”_ Harry asks him.

“I think I do.” He pauses. “Thanks, Hazz.”

_“No problem. Go get ‘em. And get me an autograph.”_

“I will so _not_ be that uncool, movie star.” The journalist chuckles. “Okay, Harry, I really have to go.” _I really don’t want to._

_“Send me a picture of your outfit.”_

“Will do. G’night, Hazz.”

_“And you have a great afternoon. Good luck.”_

“Thanks. See ya.”

Louis hangs up and sends Harry a mirror pic, something he usually abhors.

Harry sends another one back – he’s in bed, comfy as ever; the most beautiful man Louis has ever been. And no, he’s not about to dwell in that either, so just give up.

 

-

 

He meets Beckham when the former footballer stumbles on a rug near Neymar’s first football ever.

“Whoa, be careful there, mate”, Louis says before realizing who he’s talking to. Then he looks up. _Shit_.

“Shit?” Beckham asks.

“Oh. Did I say that out loud?” Louis widens his eyes, a bit dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, I’m really stupid, just a big fan of yours. I’m really glad we’re meeting.”

“Pleasure, _mate._ I’m David. Nice to meet you too…”

“Louis. Tomlinson.”

“Tomlinson! You work for Simon Cowell, don’t you?” David Beckham asks him.

Louis can’t wait to tell Harry that their favorite football player (“apart from Liam, Lou”, Harry always reminds him) just _introduced_ himself, humble as ever. Actually, thinking now, that’s a very Harry thing to do. Louis wants to talk to him more than ever because _look at what you two have in common_. Holy fuck, he needs to get a freaking grip.

“Uh- yes. I do. I’m actually supposed to interview you?” He kind of asks. _Idiot._

“Sure, sure; but maybe… Could you find me at the end of the event? I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Me?”

“You _are_ Louis Tomlinson, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So yes. You.” David smiles, and right then comes a beautiful woman handing him a champagne flute. “Louis, this is my wife, Victoria.”

_I am meeting Posh Spice! I am meeting Posh Spice!!!!_

“Pleasure”, she says, but doesn’t smile. Victoria Beckham doesn’t smile and hates when people ask her _why_ she doesn’t. Louis, on the other hand, gives her his biggest smile so far.

They separate and mingle. Louis interviews three idols, and even though Pelé isn’t one of them, he gets to shake hands with the man _and_ he hugs Messi. He _hugs_ Messi. Now he only needs to meet Cristiano Ronaldo one day and he will die a happy man.

At the end of the event, as promised, Louis goes back to find David Beckham. And fulfilling all his teenage dreams, the former player asks him to go out for drinks, since he has an idea he wants to run by the journalist. And there comes _James Corden_.

Despite knowing the name, Louis never really paid attention to the guy, but here’s what he finds out when they all sit down at a piano bar at David’s hotel: James Corden has a sports show in America and he’s number one over there right now. He and David are about to shoot a documentary about the most famous footballers of all times and what they think of the current generation of _best footballers_ , and they want Louis in on it.

“Word around is that you’re bored.” James says, cool as a cucumber as he sips from his whiskey glass.

“Come again?”

“I got a call from your boss; said you were bored and asked if I had something for you. You came highly recommended, is what I’m saying.” The other journalist and TV presenter clarifies.

“So, Louis, what do you say? You in?” David asks as if there were _any other type of answer_ that wasn’t _yes_ in every possible language and intonation.

They talk and talk and talk and what they basically need from Louis now is _research_ , or, well, he’ll be “the head of research”. He and his team ­(Louis will have a team!) will look into old and current players who made or are making history, and contact them and organize everything from their answers over the phone to flying them to Los Angeles and interviewing them for the documentary.

“Sorry- Los Angeles?” He asks.

“Yes. Well, both James and I live there, so that’s where we’ll be shooting the documentary.”

Louis gulps.

“Is that gonna be a problem?” James check.

“Uh-” _Harry’s in LA. You won’t be alone. And it’s not forever. You’ll be okay_. “No. It won’t be a problem.”

-

 

Louis leaves Spain on the weekend with a contract ready to sign, a resignation ready to be delivered, and a very strong desire to see his mom. Next stop: Doncaster.

 

-

 

“LOUIS WILLIAM TOMLINSON, YOU DID WHAT?” Jay basically screams, but she looks happy.

“I got a job in LA?” He kind of asks again. They’re doing what they always do: drinking tea at the kitchen islands. The girls are out. It’s a perfect afternoon.

“Holy mother of God!” She hugs him for the third time. “When does it start? How long will it last?”

“’M not sure, mom. I’m going there after New Year’s, don’t know how long it’ll last. Probably until Summer? We’ll have Skype meetings the next week. I’ll tell you when I know more.” He tells her the same thing he’s told Cara. And Harry. And Liam.

“This will be such a good thing. Specially after… You know.” She pauses. “After your break up. How are you, by the way?”

Louis doesn’t need to think.

“I’m good, mom.”

“Lou!” Jay calls him warningly.

“I am. I…” He looks down. “I look back and it’s weird, in a way. Kind of like  I was living a dream, you know?” His mom frowns. “I don’t know. I was all right. It was nice. But it wasn’t…”

“Real?” She asks. Louis nods, then sips from his tea. The way Jay looks at him right now says that she’s about to give him one of those sentimental lectures. Louis kind of needs it. “It could be nice, living in the dream world. I know that. It could be great even. And you can hide, and you can pretend all the crap out there doesn’t exist…”

“Look, she curses!” He teases and they chuckle.

“But you can’t do it forever.” She goes serious again. “I think you learned that, with Ashton. Because, eventually, whatever you’re running from, it’ll find you. It will come along and punch you in the gut, and then… Then you gotta wake up. Because if you don’t… Trying to keep that dream alive can destroy you. It can destroy everything.”

“I know.” The journalist says in a small voice. “I know that.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m really proud of you for waking up. You’re reinventing yourself and changing your whole life, Lou.” She offers him a smile, holds his hand real right on the counter. “You make me the proudest mom out there. And I hope your sisters follow your footsteps.

“Mom.” He doesn’t want to get all mushy and cry. But he kind of does it anyways. Louis gets up and hugs her. “I love you.” He says.

“I love you, too, boo. More than anything in the world. Okay?”

“Okay.” He breathes in her neck.

_Okay_.

 

-

 

“What time is it there now?” He asks Harry as soon as the other man picks up the phone.

_“You really need to learn time zones, Louis!”_ The actor chuckles. _“It’s two pm. We’re finally shooting.”_ He says.

“That’s amazing!” Louis cheers. “Tell me all the gossip when you can.”

_“Will do!”_

“Hey, I told my mom! About the documentary thing. She’s like- really fucking happy for me.”

_“Told you she would be. And I know your mom’s validation is way better than mine, but… I’m really fucking happy for you too. Proud, you know?”_

Louis smiles and closes his eyes, like a proper fifteen year old with a crush. What. The. Actual. HELL?

“Thank you, Harry.”

_“So. You’re officially off Simon’s duty now. What are you gonna do till January?”_

“I don’t know.” He groans and rolls on the bed. “Go crazy?”

Harry laughs.

_“You could come here, you know? Cara’s bound to come anyways because we need to go on more pap walks and whatnot. And I have spare bedrooms.”_

“Yeah?”

_“Yeah. I mean, I know you’re gonna be here for a long time next year anyways, but- you could take a short trip? Just to say hi?”_

Louis only doesn’t mention it hasn’t even been a month ever since they saw each other because he really _wants_ to see Harry again. Like, yesterday, preferably. In person, not on his phone screen.

“I… Could. Yes.”

_“Perfect, then_.”

He can almost see Harry’s smile.

It is perfect, indeed.

Later, when they finally hang up because Harry needs to get back to work and Louis needs to sleep, the journalist texts Cara, in the darkness of his room, admitting for the first time something he’s probably known all along:

**I think I like Harry. Like:** ** _like like_** **.**

All right. He is _definitely_ fifteen.

Cara’s reply comes within seconds:

**_Well. Duh._**

 

-

 

When Louis packs his bag the next day, Jay simply side-eyes him and doesn’t say a thing about him going on an eleven hour flight to see a person when he rarely drives three hours to see her. Louis knows there is plenty she wants to say; he gets the idea that she’s never talked about Harry as much as she wanted to – and maybe that’s his own fault, but, it is what it is. Louis is still learning how to deal with these confusing feelings towards the actor.

He says goodbye to her and the kids, leaves a note to Fizzy and texts Lottie, and then he’s on his way to meet Cara. His best friend is _way_ more vocal about his desire to accompany her on her trip to the US this time, but Louis puts in earplugs as soon as the plane takes off, and sleeps for the rest of the trip.

 

-

 

It’s been _ages_ since Louis came to California. He has never been a huge fan of The United States, but when Cara started to travel the world, he’d go everywhere with her – when he could. Thinking back, last time he was here was three and a half years ago, when she was modeling for Marc Jacobs. Time flies.

“I’m so excited to be here!” She says when they enter the uber after getting to the airport.

Harry couldn’t pick them up because he’s at work, and they’ll only see him tonight. But it’s fine.

“Why would that be?” Louis muses.

Cara’s girlfriend is playing a concert there tomorrow, and the journalist can’t pretend he isn’t impressed by their ability to coordinate dates so well. He guesses the universe is helping, in a way, and he also asks himself how he would cope in a situation like this.

You see, Annie is _out_. She’s only waiting for Cara to catch up so they can drop the BFF act. He wonders how much love it takes to stay in the closet for someone until they’re ready to come out. Must be a lot.

“It’s not like you aren’t either, you idiot.” She winks. Louis doesn’t respond. “Hazz said we should go out for dinner tomorrow night after the show.”

“’S a good idea.”

“We’ll practically be double dating.” She squeaks.

“I don’t want people thinking I date Annie, thank you very much.” He snorts.

“Not what I meant…” The model sing-songs and then chuckles, looking outside the window.

Their staying here might be more interesting than he thought, after all.

 

-

 

When Harry sees them, it’s like it had been three years and not three weeks. He hugs Cara and Louis at the same time and says _it’s so good to see you here!_

One thing Louis has noticed, and that it would’ve made him angry almost a year ago, is that Harry really likes Cara. And she really likes him back. They are _proper_ friends now. And Louis… Louis is extremely happy for it.

“Okay, but did you miss us _equally?_ ” The model asks.

“Of course not!” Louis answers before Harry can. “He missed me a lot more.” And then he rolls his eyes, finding a spot in the center of the couch, since they’re getting ready to watch a movie.

“I refuse to reply to that.” Cara says louder. “Hey, bf…” She calls Harry, who’s just coming from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hands.

“That’s me.” He smiles.

“D’you think they got good shots of me opening the door for you?” Cara asks, a bit serious now. When Harry arrived at his own house, both Cara and Louis were already there; the paps followed him just so they’d catch Cara opening the door. Tomorrow there’ll probably be some shit online like _Cara Delevingne Surprises Boyfriend At His LA House_.

The only reason Louis won’t say the pictures of them hugging will turn out disgusting is because they’re two of the people he cares about most in the world. That’s just it. (He wonders when he started to think of Harry like that, like someone who’s as important and as vital to him as Cara, who’s been in his life since he was a kid. Shit.)

“Uh, I think so.” Harry’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“Alright. In that case, I’mma go spend the night with my girlfriend, kay?”

“Sure”, he smiles. “She staying at a hotel?”

“Yeah. But I’ll be careful. Don’t worry, Styles, I’ve done this once or twice.” She winks.

“I know, you idiot, was just gonna say that she can come stay here too. I have plenty of room…” The actor says and then plops down by Louis’ side. Louis grabs the popcorn immediately.

“Very kind of you to offer, but there’ll be a lot of screaming done tonight, so we’re gonna need some privacy.” Cara winks.

“GROSS!” Louis practically screams at the same time Harry makes gagging noises. Then he coughs.

“TMI, Cara!” Harry groans. “Ew. Lady bits!”

“Disgusting.” Louis agrees.

The model simply snorts.

“Dicks are disgusting.” She says back. Louis and Harry must look outraged at the same time, because right after, she completes: “you two were really made for each other, I swear.” Cara rolls her eyes. “Okay. I’m going. See you both tomorrow night. Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“We have lots of options, then.” The journalist winks cheekily at her.

“Hate you.”

“LOVE YOU TOO, BABES!” He screams, but she’s already at the door.

Harry’s still chuckling when Louis finally presses play on the movie.

“I did, you know.” The actor murmurs. It’s so low that Louis practically doesn’t catch it.

But he does.

“Did what?” He questions.

“Miss you a lot more.” Harry answers easily.

“Yeah?” Louis looks at him.

“Yeah.” He confirms. Louis rests his head on Harry’s shoulder as the first scene comes on.

 

-

 

Annie’s concert is good.

Louis has seen her perform a couple of times already, but it’s always nice to see her in her element. Cara is radiant and Harry seems to be having fun too. It’s a good night, if he says so himself.

They leave the place together and go to the restaurant Harry suggested, and even though it gets a tiny bit uncomfortable when they’re all photographed together, Harry’s hand loose on Cara’s waist while her girlfriend is _right there_ , they manage to make through it without any major trouble.

“I’m really sorry.” Is the first thing Harry says when they sit down at a table far, far away from the windows.

“It’s okay, Harry.” Annie replies.

It’s really not, and Louis feels it when Harry basically grimaces at the girl, but they leave it at that.

The night itself is a delight. They talk about the concert and songs that are on the radio at the moment, and everyone is happy, all in all. Louis posts a picture on his insta-stories of them all, and suddenly he gets a whole lot of notifications, including a reply from Liam, saying he wishes he could be there.

He shows it to Harry.

“Wanna answer?” Louis asks, passing Harry his phone, already knowing the answer.

**You have a proper girlfriend now. You don’t really miss us. All the love. –H**

And then he puts an “x” for good measure. Louis doesn’t hide his fond.

“It was cute how they went public together, though.” The journalist says.

One day he woke up and Liam had posted a picture with this girl named Sophia, saying that _she’s got a hold on him_. For aesthetics purposes, Sophia only posted a picture of their hands intertwined, subtitled _I am not letting go_.

“Yeah, it was. We have to meet her!” Harry says excitedly. “We should arrange something when I’m back in London for the holidays.”

“Maye throw a small get together?” Louis suggests.

“Could be on your birthday!” The actor basically lights up.

“Uh, no. I don’t really celebrate my birthday.”

For now, they leave it at that.

-

 

The week passes in a flash. Harry is often working and Louis is often stressing over having to actually live here for a long period of time as of next year. He _skype_ meeting ends up happening in person, since he’s in the city, and it’s a success, if he says so himself.

When he gets back to Harry, the actor opens a bottle of real, expensive champagne to celebrate, and they drink it together on Harry’s balcony with the whole city underneath them, and a whole bunch of plans waiting to be unfolded.

 

-

“You’ll be okay, I promise.” Harry says in Louis’ ear as he hugs him goodbye.

“Wish me luck?” Louis asks.

“Good luck, Lou.” He smiles his million dollar smile. _Literally._ “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”

“See you, Harold.”

“Lemme know how it goes. You can wake me up if I’m asleep, all right?”

“Okay.” He replies. Then, hugs Harry again. “Ok. Bye.”

“Bye.”

 

-

 

Louis lands in Manchester on a Tuesday morning, and both his mother and Fizzy are already there to pick him up. He can’t believe he is doing it.

Louis couldn’t sleep for however many hours he was flying. He is completely exhausted, and he’s just about to go visit his father in prison. Life _has_ been better. Like, less than twenty-four hours ago when he was laughing with Harry, for example.

Shit.

He really doesn’t want to do it.

But then his mom puts his suitcase in the trunk and Félicité hugs him, thanks him immensely for doing this for her, and Louis simply nods and gets in the car.

_Shit_.

First they have lunch. He’s starving, but he’s also so nervous that he doesn’t really eat anything. Jay tries to engage him in conversation and he does talk a bit: he talks about the trip and the city and the new job. His younger sister also seems excited about him, and maybe for a minute or two he relaxes. But when it’s one thirty, they pay the bill, get in the car again, and everything goes back to spinning in his head.

_God, help me_ , he sighs as he thinks, eyes closed. Louis isn’t a very religious person, but if there’s someone up there, he hopes they’re looking out for him right now.

 

-

 

Louis registers few things before he goes back to being himself: a strident noise, a door opening, and a weak man coming through it.

It’s funny, really. His entire life after _The Day_ , Louis made him out to be this larger than life thing – the person without whom Louis and his family were left with nothing, the one that destroyed their lives by being greedy, by leaving.

Now, though, looking at Mark as he makes his way to the table where Louis and Fizzy are waiting for him, Louis notices how _small_ he really is. How nobody ever really needed him, because they made it through. _We made it through_ , he thinks. _We have everything we’ve ever needed again_.

“Hey, dad.” Fizzy says as he sits in front of them.

“Félicité.” He smiles. “Louis. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Fizz is underage, so.” Is what he answers, not looking into his eyes. “You two can talk, I’ll focus on something else.”

“Don’t you wanna talk with us, Lou?” Fizzy asks. “Sometimes we play chess.”

“No. Thanks.”

_One excruciating hour passes_.

Families come and go. People hug around them. Fizzy laughs and talks about her life. They engage in a game of chess for at least ten minutes until they give up, laughing together. Louis is nauseous.

Through it all, Louis can feel his eyes on him. Mark is always expecting him to speak up, Louis notices, but he doesn’t. Not until it’s extremely necessary.

A guard comes and lets them know they need to go in fifteen minutes.

“Baby girl, do you mind if I talk to your brother alone for the rest of the time?” Mark asks. Louis looks up alarmed. “It’s been… Years since I last saw him.” He says apologetic to Fizzy. He doesn’t have the _right_ , Louis doesn’t want to-

“Y-yeah, of course.” Louis’ sister answers. “See you on Christmas, daddy. I think.” She bites her bottom lip and then gets up to hug him.

It’s very fast; somebody is watching.

“I’ll wait for you outside, Lou.” She says and walks past him, staring at the ground.

Louis sighs. And waits.

Mark fidgets on his seat, plays with his nails the same way Louis does sometimes. Fucking hell.

“How are you, son?” He finally asks. Louis is furious when he looks at him. It stings to hear the word _son_. “I’ve missed you so much, you know? The girls always talk about you. You’re a big shot journalist, aren’t you? The news made me so happy, I’m so proud-”

“I don’t want you to be proud of me.”

“I get that.” Mark grimaces. “But I still am, even if it doesn’t count for anything.”

“I…” Louis trails. “I have more issues than I could possibly count.” He says. “And on my worse days I go from happy to sad in seconds. I can’t talk about you with anyone but two people. And I…” _Everything hurts, everything hurts_. “I’m so ashamed of you. So, so ashamed. And sometimes I am ashamed of myself, too, for missing you. For missing who I thought you were instead of the person who stole money from dozens and dozens of families…” _You will not cry, Louis Tomlinson_. “So no. You being proud of me doesn’t really count for anything. Because I don’t know who you are.”

Mark doesn’t cry either, but the journalist can see his eyes shining.

“Yes, I’ve made many mistakes.” He acknowledges. “Life didn’t come with instructions, you know? At the time… At the time I didn’t think what I was doing was… Serious, I guess.” Louis snorts. “I made mistakes and now I am living with the consequences. But I still want your forgiveness. For what I did to you and your mother.”

“I’m not sure I can give it to you.” He shrugs, but his insides are twisting.

“Can you… Try? Please, Louis.” Mark’s voice is pained. “One day I’m going to get out of here. And I’ll never get a job, and I probably _will_ die alone. But I don’t want my kids to hate me forever.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You’ll always be _my_ kid, all right? And I’ll always want to know about your job, and girlfriends and-”

“I have _boyfriends_.” Louis corrects him, a bit surprised that none of his sisters told him that already.

“Oh. About your boyfriends, then.” His father responds. “What do you say? Can you… Can you try?”

“It’s a lot to ask.”

“It is. But it’s the first time I am seeing you since you were eighteen, _son_. And I’ve been rehearsing this conversation every night for the past seven years.”

Louis blinks back tears now. _Fuck, get him out of here_.

In a sudden movement, he gets up.

“Louis.” Mark says his name once again.

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” He says, looking down at him.

“Will you… Will you let me know? Will I see you again?”

And because Louis is really desperate to get out of there, he doesn’t think when he says yes.

All he wants to do is go home, shower, and talk to Harry. Nothing else.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September's gonna be a crazy month, my midterms are coming and my best friends are celebrating their birthdays, and there's still work/real life in the way and aaaaaah, it's insane. So, I'm not sure if I'll be able to update that fast, but know that I am still working on the next chapters. I'm really excited to finish this story after so much pining. Y'all deserve it, and so do Louis and Harry! haha
> 
> Much love as always,  
> M. Xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK BACK AGAIN !!!!!!!  
> Hi! I've missed you!  
> This chapter is a bit longer than usual so I hope it makes up for this past month. It was hectic, but I survived (and I also saw Shawn Mendes AND Niall Horan live, so my life is complete).
> 
> Enjoy it :) <3
> 
> P.S: this chapter hasn't been betaed yet, but I felt like posting it because it's been waaaay too long. I'll update it as soon as Angel Jada works her magic.

         London greets Harry like an old, reliable friend: red buses, black cabs, blue-uniformed policemen, and gray clouds. Still, he knows the city isn’t exactly the same as the one he left, even if it was such little time ago.

First off, Harry agrees with an old philosopher, Heraclitus, when he said that _no man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man_. Things change all the time. These streets are more worn out than before; people came and people went; the weather changed, got colder. _Harry_ changed. He’s working on something new now; he’s more in contact with his feelings. Life is just… Different.

And he can feel it in his bones; it tingles his skin, it makes him feel giddy and this is all so, so new.

Harry was never one to welcome change; not really. He has always liked routine. He likes to know where he’s going to be in the next few months and how the weather is going to be the next day. He likes to plan ahead and follow a schedule. At least that’s what he tells himself.

The airport is crowded with fans. It’s a rare occasion these days, but every time he starts filming something new and it hits the media, everyone, eventually, finds out about where he is and just follows him. He does his best to say _hi_ to everybody, and once he gets in the car that’s waiting for him, the first thing he does is fish his phone out of his pocket to let Louis know he’s _home_.

“Well, hello to you too, asshole.” Niall says.

“Hi, Ni, sorry. Thanks for picking me up”, Harry replies, smiling a bit. “Where’s Gems?”

“Wasn’t ready when I had to leave so we have to go back for her.”

“Okay…”

“How was the flight?”

“Slept through most of it, to be honest.” Harry tells him.

The traffic isn’t so bad, but then again nothing compares to the traffic he always faces in the US.

They talk about everyday stuff, and Niall tells him he’s getting more comfortable with Harry’s family every time he visits them. It’s a weird thought that his PA has seen Harry’s mother more than Harry himself in the last month, so the actor makes a mental note to spend as much time as possible with her.

Niall also says he wants to take Gemma to Ireland in January, but it’s going to be hard to get some days off at the office, since everyone’s been acting crazy these past few weeks – and Harry knows it’s all his fault, but Niall doesn’t say that. Instead, he changes the topic, asks about how Harry’s been feeling shooting for the movie and if he’s got any new friends apart from Zayn.

Truth is, Harry doesn’t.

Yes, he likes everybody and they go out for drinks or dinner every now and then, but most of the time he’s just thinking about getting home early and going to bed to get ready and face another day. Zayn notices it, usually, and leaves with him, so that’s the reason why Harry considers him an actual friend.

More than once, Zayn has listened to Harry talking about _home_. About Louis and about his own family and about how much he hates being in the closet, but no one believes him when he says he’s ready to come out. Zayn is also the one that tells him that maybe _Harry_ is the one who isn’t listening when he’s told it’s better to wait a bit longer.

Sometimes Harry hates how right he is. But other times he loves the fact that, right now, he’s the only person in his life who knows _him_ without _knowing_ him. Zayn’s unbiased, is the thing. He’s just gotten here, so he didn’t experience this entire year of Harry-Cara-Louis and everyone in between. It’s just- easier, to talk to him.

“And it isn’t easy to talk to us?” Niall asks back.

“I was just answering a question.” Harry says. “But no. Sometimes it isn’t easy to talk to you.” He confesses.

His friend doesn’t reply to that, simply nods and offers Harry a tight smile, as if he understands, but doesn’t really like it.

“’M sorry. I’ve missed you.” Harry offers.

“We’ve missed you too, Hazz.” Niall says.

They get to Gemma’s flat five minutes later, and his sister hugs him so tight that makes Harry’s heart hurt. But in the best way. He’s gotten too used to being back home, and one month felt like one year away. Time is, indeed, a weird concept, he finds out.

His phone vibrates when they’re getting to the restaurant, and Harry doesn’t need to unlock it to know that it’s Louis.

**_I’ve just woken up; sorry. Happy you’re home, Hazz. Ring me later._**

**Will do. Having lunch with Nemma now.** He texts back with a stupid smile on his face; a while ago Louis started calling Niall and Gemma _Nemma_ , much to Gemma’s disgust and Harry’s delight. Niall loves it too, but then again, Niall loves all things Louis – except, maybe, when he gets in the middle of Harry’s business. Which, speaking of…

“You should go on Grimmy this week.” Niall says, going into professional mode.

“Not that it is a problem, but, why?”

“Management wants you to do some promo while you’re here, but it’s the fucking holidays so I convinced them that the least they could do was let you be interviewed by somebody you like.” He shrugs.

“Thanks.” Harry says truthfully. “When are you thinking?’

“Tomorrow morning”, Niall grins. “Nick’s on board, we’ve already called him.”

“Of course.” The actor rolls his eyes.

“Also, I found you two more gigs. I mean, things I think you’ll enjoy being a part of.” His sister says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but I don’t see how you’ll manage them until you finish the movie.”

“What are they, though?” He is curious.

One of them is an independent French movie, and that’s all Harry hears about it because _no_ , Harry’s not really into French stuff. No offense. The other one, though… The other one is about a boy in New York who is taken by a wealthy Upper East Side family after his mother is a killed in a bombing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Harry is immediately interested in it.

“I imagine the character being a cinema version of Chuck Bass, maybe? But I haven’t read the script, just got it a couple of days ago.”

“When would it start shooting?”

“That’s the catch. July next year.” She says.

“Which is…”

“Exactly when you finish shooting this one.” Niall says. “It’s complicated, mate, but Michael says he can organize your promo schedule and give you free time to shoot… But that’s all you’re gonna be able to do for a long time.”

“I just think that-” Gemma starts, then shuts up.

“No, go on.”

“I mean, you don’t even have the part, right? So you _could_ just show interest in it. They start the auditions in LA in February; you’re already going to be there. I don’t see why not try.”

Harry considers. That means _more_ time away from London. That also means less time feeling lonely. So.

“I wanna audition.” He decides. “Have you got the script here?”

“Yes!” Gemma practically celebrates as she reaches inside her bag to retrieve it.

Niall picks up from where they left off and continues talking about promo and image and how he and Cara are going Christmas shopping this afternoon. Harry doesn’t even take it that badly, he was expecting something like that since they didn’t make her pick him up at the airport.

So they finish having lunch and take Harry home – _finally_.

Harry sighs when he closes the door behind him, and it’s with a smile on his face that he drags his suitcase to his bedroom, ready to shower and unpack.

He has a couple of hours until Cara is meeting him here, so he does the only thing possible: he calls Louis and asks him to come over.

“I come bearing chocolate”, Louis warns twenty minutes later when he barges into Harry’s flat.

“The question is: why?”

“Because it’s the holidays and you can cheat on your stupid diet.” Louis says.

“My diet is not stupid”, Harry defends. “I need to keep fit for the movie.”

“It is stupid and you’re always fit.” The journalist rolls his eyes and doesn’t even realize that what he’s just said so freaking naturally.

Harry takes a deep breath.

“Hi, Lou.” He says with a smile.

Louis hugs him immediately and if Harry thought that entering his flat was coming home, then hugging Louis is coming home and finding out unicorns are real at the same time. Louis smells like caramel and feels soft under Harry’s embrace, and he wants to cry with how in love he is.

“Missed you, H.” The journalist says.

They only have one hour and a half, so there’s not much they can do.  Louis sprawls himself on Harry’s bed while Harry unpacks and decides what needs to be washed and what will go in the closet. Louis updates Harry on his family and his recent contracts, and Harry tells him about his lunch with _Nemma_.

Louis acts very excited for Harry’s future plans, but there’s… Something weird there. Something Harry can’t place his finger on, exactly.

“So, you’re interviewing with Nick Grimshaw tomorrow and then what?” He asks when Harry finally finishes, lying by Louis’ side, just waiting for Cara to arrive.

“I’ll probably spend the afternoon at his.” He shrugs. “It’s been a while since we last caught up.”

“Oh. All right.”

“Why?”

“Nothing.”

“Louis.”

“What?” The journalist snaps at him. Harry laughs. “Hate you.”

“No, you hate Nick.” He chuckles. “For no reason at all, if I may add.”

“You may not.” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, though. Did you want to do something tomorrow?”

“Liam invited us for dinner; I told him you wanted to meet Sophia and- yeah.”

“We could do that.” Harry says carefully. “I do want to meet Sophia _and_ I miss Liam. Plus, it won’t be _horrible_ to spend time with you.”

“Oh.” Louis’ eyes widen almost as if he’s surprised Harry will leave Nick’s flat to go out with him and his friends. “Okay then.”

“I’ll be driving so I can pick you up, yeah?”

Louis tries, he really does, and Harry knows because he sees his struggle, but, in the end, he opens a smile – one of those that makes the actor’s heart melt on the spot. They’re okay.

Harry goes out with Cara and has a blast, but that’s nothing new. They have to cuddle inside a store so the paparazzi can catch them _in a loving embrace_ , and he would be uncomfortable if it were anyone else. But he’s not, especially when she makes a stupid joke about the clothes they’re buying.

She drives him back to his flat and when they’re sure nobody else is around, she sneaks out to her own place. The minute Harry hits the bed he falls asleep, and drifts into nothingness until his cellphone starts ringing at six in the freaking morning.

 

-

The interview is pretty standard, even for Nick. Harry thinks it might have something to do with Michael, The Publicist, making an appearance during it and staring at the DJ as if he’d bang his head against a wall in case he made any kind of sexuality joke with Harry. Still, Nick is Nick, so he manages to be fun, even when he isn’t being… Ambiguous.

Harry receives strict instructions to say he is very glad to be back in London because he’s missed _a lot_ of things about this place, and Nick needs to catch the reference and say _we know the things you’ve missed, or who_. He jokes. Harry laughs. To everyone else, it sure sounds like Cara. But Harry knows and _Nick_ knows he means someone else.

They talk about the movie and about Christmas shopping and it’s all very stupid and very cute, and when they’re done, Michael still sits there to make sure that Nick won’t try to include him in any other segment for the rest of the show.

“Harry, can I have a word, please?” Michael asks.

“Sure.” He moves against his will. “What’s up?”

“We’re gonna need you back at the office before you fly back to America after New Year’s…” He starts and Harry nods. “Just to talk about your schedule and everything else.”

“Okay.”

“It’s also come to our attention that Louis Tomlinson is going to be moving to Los Angeles in January, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what’s the nature of yours and Mr. Tomlinson’s relationship?”

“We’re- friends.” Harry responds frowning.

“Just friends?” Michael asks again.

“Yes. Just friends.”

“If anything changes, I need to know. Simon _needs_ to know. We don’t want your beard’s best friend to become a problem.”

“Louis isn’t a problem.” He jumps way too quickly to his defense.

“ _Mr. Tomlinson_ is already high profiled on his own. If you are to hang out with him while in America, make sure it is in private.” Michael’s voice is serious, final. “Are we clear?”

“We are.”

“Good. Have a nice holiday, Harry.”

“You too.”

Michael leaves the room and Harry simply sighs, fishing his phone out of his pocket to text Niall and ask him _what the hell_ that was.

Nick clears his throat from the door and Harry looks at him. He says it before he can control himself.

“I’m in love with him.”

It’s basically a whisper, the way Harry confesses his love for Louis out loud for the first time.

In his defense, Nick doesn’t snort or make fun of it, but he walks towards Harry, gets as close as he can, then says _I know_ , placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug.

“I’m _really_ in love with him.”

“I know, H.” He says. “I know. It’s gonna be okay.”

-

 

Sophia Smith is a delight. Harry doesn’t know where Liam found her, but he’s glad he did.

He picks Louis up around six and they get to Liam’s at six twenty, and his friend and his girlfriend receive them with food and wine and really, there’s nothing much better than this.

Harry hugs Liam for longer than it’s socially acceptable, but he’s missed him, what can he say? Liam then introduces Harry to Sophia and she’s immediately one of the coolest girls Harry has ever seen. She’s pretty, has a nice smile and is very well dressed. Along the night, he also finds out she’s sassy, opinionated and a huge fan of the Rolling Stones.

“Soph’s gonna model for YSL next year, H.” Louis tells him.

“NO WAY! Really?” Harry asks in a very happy tone.

Anyone that looks at Liam and Sophia can see a cliché couple: a footballer with a model; but Harry is a fan of clichés, so he thinks it’s amazing.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been working with Burberry for a long time now and I felt like changing…”

“Well, I’m a fan of both, though I am partial to Saint Laurent, especially their boots…” Harry says.

“Aren’t you in a Gucci phase now?” Louis asks.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t love YSL, Louis, _please_. My fashion heart has space for every fine brand that wants me to advertise them…” He smiles almost poetically, and Sophia hits Liam on the arm.

“Ouch. What was that for?” The footballer asks.

“Why can’t you be like that, uh?” She pretends to be mad. _“Oh, Soph, straight guys don’t care about these things…”_ Sophia makes a poor imitation of his voice. “I bet that wasn’t what Harry told Cara when they started dating. By the way, where _is_ she? I was hoping we’d meet, I’m such a big fan.” She says.     

Louis eyes Liam, who eyes Harry, who eyes Louis. No one responds. It’s like they’re having a private conversation in their minds. Harry mentally asks Liam if he’s really serious about this girl and if she is trustworthy. Liam’s eyes soften, and he nods. Then Louis smiles encouragingly. And Harry chuckles, taking a deep breath.

“I have two observations.” He says. “One, I know many straight guys who are into fashion, so shame on you for saying what you said, Liam.” The actor reprimands his friend, and Sophia smiles a smug smile. “Two…” He turns to Sophia. “I’m getting _really_ tired of coming out-” he jokes, “but I am not straight.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So you and Cara…”

“We’re just really good friends.” He assures her. “And I honestly don’t know why she isn’t here, I thought she’d been invited…”

“My bad.” Louis shrugs. Liam smirks.

They keep talking until it’s late enough for Harry to yawn. He knows it’s very impolite, but it’s nearing ten pm and he hasn’t slept properly in over forty-eight hours, so he apologizes but tells them he really needs to go. As it is, Louis gets up with him saying that Harry is his ride and he, too, is very tired.

Harry doesn’t mention that Louis has taken naps countless times or that he can’t be that tired because he woke up super late today too. Instead, he smiles big and says goodbye to Liam and to Sophia, telling his friend that he’ll skip their morning run tomorrow, but that the day after they shall go back to their tradition.

 

-

The actor drives Louis home in silence. But that doesn’t go unnoticed. Instead, it’s very much noticed.

“Did you know that you’re the only person I can sit in complete silence with?” Louis asks out of the blue.

“Really?” Harry asks, turning his head slightly to the side quickly and then paying attention to the road again.

Only now he realizes they never put music on.

“Yes, really.” Louis responds, voice equally surprised. “You make me… Still.”

“And that’s… A good thing?”

“I think so.” He offers. “I think it’s a very good thing.”

Harry absolutely hates when Louis’ voice gets like this, all low and thoughtful and warm. Because if Harry makes Louis still, Louis makes Harry feel fidgety with anticipation, a nervous kind of energy; something that tingles through him like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in his toes.

“Look, H…” He says. “Remember when I cut you off about my birthday idea?”

“Yeah…”

“I… My dad and I, we… We used to go on small adventures on my birthday.” He explains. Harry drives as carefully as he listens now, softening his foot on the paddle so Louis can tell his story without having to rush. “Sharing your birthday with _Jesus_ isn’t the best thing in the world, you know?” He tries to smile. “And I sort of remember being five and going to this small cabin with him and mom, because I’d been wanting to do that for so long back then… Or so my mom tells me.”

Harry smiles softly. The image of a five year old Louis is more than endearing.

“I loved it. Said it was _the best birthday ever_. But as the years passed, mom had the girls and it was just… Too much. Too many people to travel and she was always busy with them, so- dad would take me back to the cabin anyways, on the twenty-third, and we’d come back home late afternoon on the twenty-fourth to a baked cake and all the girls around the table singing happy birthday. Mom would smile this huge smile and we’d all celebrate together and… Yeah.” The other man rests his head back and looks at Harry. His eyes are watery and maybe Harry’s are a little bit too. “I know I’m too old to be traumatized by these things… And I know that- like, it’s stupid. But I just stopped celebrating my birthday in general.”

“Hey, Lou, no-” Harry places a hand on his shoulder as soon as he stops the car in front of the journalist’s building. “It’s not stupid. You’re not _too old_ or anything like that. I get it. And I’ll respect it, okay? You didn’t even have to tell me.”

“Of course I did.” Louis sniffles and looks at him. “Believe it or not, you’re now my best friend Harry Styles.”

Harry pretends it doesn’t sting.

“Right.”

“Hazz.” Louis takes his hand that is still on his shoulder and squeezes it. “You’re…” He looks at him. “You’re my _best_ friend.”

“And what about Cara?” Harry side-smiles.

“You two are in different leagues.”

“How so?”

“She’s my childhood best friend. You’re my right now best friend.” Louis smiles brightly. It’s almost blinding.

“Okay.” Harry chuckles. “Well. You’re my best friend too. My all-time best friend. And I promise I won’t pester you on your birthday.”

“Haaaaaaa-rryyyyyy!” Louis coos and leans over the console to hug him. “Thank you.” He whispers.

“You’re welcome.”

 

-

 

_Traditions are made to be broken_ , or so does Cara say every year when she inevitably drags Louis out of his flat. He didn’t want to go home this year, knowing that everyone would try to make a big deal of it, so he told his mom he’d drive there early on the twenty-fifth, which is why, today, on his goddamn birthday, Cara shows up at his door at ten o’clock in the morning, ready to drag him out.

Louis was _kind of_ expecting it already, so he’s showered and ready.

“We’re going out for brunch; then we’re shopping!” She says excitedly.

“You wanna go _shopping_ on Christmas’ Eve? Are you _insane_?” He asks her. “Nobody goes out on the twenty-fourth, Cara.”

“We do.” She shrugs, already pulling him by the arm and getting inside the lift. “Are you gonna tell me you’ve already bought everyone’s gifts?”

“For your information, yes, I have.” He smiles smugly.

“I hate you. I don’t know what to get my family.”

It’s a conversation they always, _always_ have around the holidays and Cara’s parents respective birthdays or anniversaries. She never knows what to give them, because they already have everything, and Louis isn’t much help because he doesn’t either. He’s one for sentimental gifts, and since he knows she isn’t that close to her family, for very understandable reasons, it gets hard to give advice.

London is cold, cold, and cold. Jesus, Louis didn’t know it was going to be this cold today.

There’s no snow for now, and he wonders if it’ll come along later in the day; he hopes so. He really enjoys the snow and the nostalgia it brings, even though it’s a bitch to drive around when the roads are slippery.

They have brunch together and Cara insists on paying for him as his birthday gift. She even makes him eat a cupcake, but not before taking a picture and sending it to Jay, proving to her that she didn’t let Louis’ birthday pass without some kind of celebration. For someone who doesn’t like traditions, this is one Cara has with Louis’ mother: she always lets her know Louis is being taken care of.

Part of Louis feels like shit for robbing his mom from today; part of him wishes he could drive up to Doncaster right now and sing happy birthday with his family, but there’s still so much unresolved shit inside of him that it’s just… Hard. Plus, he knows that today Lottie is gonna take the girls to see their dad in prison, so, there’s that.

Louis didn’t lie when he told his father he’d think about visiting him again, he just couldn’t convince himself to do so. Contrary to popular belief, forgiveness doesn’t come that easy when you love someone. And if Louis is telling the truth, he’s come to realize that when you love someone, forgiveness is even harder to come by, because how can you forgive the one person who you thought would never let you down?   

And although he is aware that this is a weight that is bringing _him_ down, he still struggles to let it go. For now, at least, he can say that he is _starting_ to want it – and he thinks it’s already an important step; Harry agreed with him when they had this conversation, so the journalist doesn’t feel bad for still having difficulties with certain feelings. He just hopes he will get there someday. Wherever _there_ is.

Louis ends up buying games he doesn’t need – because he _always_ goes back to FIFA – and Cara gets a new collection of scarves. Then they move to shoes and finally go to jumpers, Louis most favorite part ever.

“I’m going to buy you this collection as a birthday gift and there is nothing you can do about it.” She warns as if Louis is going to stop her.

“Honey, I’m against birthday celebrations, not birthday presents, _please_.” He rolls his eyes.

Cara laughs and proceeds to get the entire collection while Louis checks out the jeans. Five minutes later she shows up behind him with two huge bags and a big smile on her face.

“Happy birthday, my love.” She kisses his cheek.

“Thank you, babes.” He responds. “I’m really happy you’re spending another birthday with me.” Louis says truthfully as they walk out of the store together.

“I know of someone who’d also love to spend your birthday with you…” She muses. Louis looks at her inquisitively. “Oh, c’mon, Harry is dying to see you.” Cara almost whines. Louis turns to her, brows furrowed. “He’s trying to respect your space, but he really wants to talk to you and sort of celebrate your birthday too.”

“He told you that?”

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “C’mon, Lou, don’t be stupid.”

“I’ll… Call him.”

“You do it. After you drop me off at home. Annie’s here and we’re gonna drive to her parents’ place together…”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

-

 

When Louis calls Harry asking him if he’s up for a _lad’s night_ , it’s like Christmas has come a little bit earlier for the actor; Harry responds enthusiastically and asks Louis when he should be at his flat. It’s really cute.

This is how, at around seven pm, there’s a knock on his door and a Harry Styles right there, carrying a big package in his hands and a slight flush on his cheeks. He looks beautiful, if only a bit tired, and happy.

“Did you run here?” Louis asks.

“Not… Exactly.” Harry chuckles. “There were paps outside my flat tonight God knows why, so I had to leave the car around the corner and spend like, fifteen minutes inside a coffee shop before… Jogging here.”

“You ran here.” The journalist concludes and opens the door wider so Harry can come in.

“ _Jogged_.” Harry responds. “Stop being bitchy, I brought you a gift.”

“You haven’t even said _happy birthday_ yet, Harol-” he doesn’t finish, because Harry literally sweeps him off his feet, hugging him by the waist and twirling them around in Louis’ living room as if they were in a Disney movie.

“Happy birthday, Lou.” The actor whispers in the curve of his neck.

“Thank you.” Louis replies in an equally lower voice.

“Now onto your presents…”

“ _Presents?_ Plural?” His eyes light up.       

“Yes.” Harry smiles. “One’s useful and the other is just… Cute. But I had to.” He shrugs.

“I know I seem tough, but I love cute, Harry, so we’re good.”

“You do not seem tough, Louis. But sure, keep telling yourself that…”

“Hey!” He slaps Harry lightly on the back of his neck.

“Ouch.” Harry pretends to complain. “No presents for you.”

“Harry, _pleeeeaaaase._ ”

Harry huffs out a breath and sits on the couch; Louis follows him there, sitting across from him. Harry gets a smaller box and hands it to Louis, and the journalist knows it’s expensive right away. Harry has this thing in which he really likes to spend money on people, no matter how much they tell him not to. Louis has long given up on convincing him otherwise.

It’s a mini-camera. One of those really small, square ones but with ridiculously good definition; it fits in Louis’ pocket and it’s just… It’s really perfect that Harry thought of it.

“I think it’s gonna be good for the documentary, you know? First I thought of a voice recorder, but you could easily do that on your phone, and the camera is a professional one, so- like, preparing people for interviews and stuff, it’ll be useful.”

“It’s-” _thoughtful, amazing, how are you even real?_ “It’s perfect, Hazz.” He smiles, not caring much about the stupid expression that’s on his face. “Really, thank you.”

“No problem.” Harry answers looking down. “Onto the next one, then.”

“Okay…”

Louis takes the bigger package and wonders why Harry’s giving him a big picture; Louis’ walls are already covered and only because his mother made him buy those. The journalist doesn’t understand much about art and- _and it’s not a picture_. It’s a map, and there are things on it.

There are pins in different places in England and some in the US. And they are color-coded.

“Are those-” Louis starts asking.

“Places we’ve gone together? Yeah.” Harry answers. “I know this is really, _really_ cheesy. But since I’ve met you my life’s been a hundred times better; even with- you know, bumps along the road. So, yeah. Of course you don’t have to keep tagging _those_ places, there are hundreds of pins for you to use whenever you like.”

The thing is: Harry isn’t looking at him. And because Harry isn’t looking at him Louis knows he can’t see the expression on his face. _Maybe it’s better this way_ , he thinks. Maybe it’s still too soon for Harry to see all the emotions Louis has been hiding for a while now because he is a little shit who doesn’t know how to deal with feelings. Still, Louis is having _so many_ of them that he can’t even name them all.

There was a time in his life he expressed his feelings as they came, straight away, and in a true way. But a person can’t go on like that, right? One can’t keep bawling like a baby or throwing tantrums like a toddler and, certainly, one can’t go from saying _it’s not romantic_ to _I’m falling for you_ in a matter of two months. Louis needs to get a grip of his own mind.

He knows that there is a balance, a point of virtue, but he also knows he – _and Harry_ – fucked up so much that they both went past it long ago. But every emotion he buried before is surfacing now, making him weak on the knees. Louis wishes he’d learned to get emotions out instead of bottling them up, because there is no “healthy release” when the internal pressure is this high.

Louis doesn’t know how to defuse this bomb without triggering the damage he desperately seeks to avoid right now. So he does the only thing he can think of: he hugs Harry. He hugs him, and hugs him, and hugs him, and whispers _thank yous_ into his hair while Harry’s hand runs up and down his back, trying to say _you’re welcome_ without speaking.

“Why’s London blue and LA red?” Louis asks when they finally separate.

“London’s cold, LA’s sunnier.” Harry answers simply.

“We’re gonna need more red pins, cause I plan on traveling around the US any chance we get next year.” He says, analyzing the map.

“Haven’t you already traveled ‘round the US?”

“I’ve traveled the US with Cara, not with you.” Louis explains.

Harry is silent for a while, then he sighs, burying himself further into the couch.

“We can get more red pins.” He responds.

That’s settled then.

They watch movies and Harry cooks them a late night dinner. When it gets close to midnight, Harry starts feeling a bit cold, so Louis goes in and gets them blankets. They open the couch and lie close together, cuddling while another Christmas movie starts.

“It’s snowing”, Harry whispers, mesmerized.

Louis hums in agreement, and thinks it’s just one of the many magical things that happened tonight.

 

-

 

New Year’s Eve is a busy affair. After spending four days with his family including Christmas and Boxing Day, Louis is excited for this year to be over. It has been a great one, but he’s just really tired of living in 2017.

“Aren’t we all?” Liam snorts when Louis mentions it.

“It’s been a great season for you, what are you talking about?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know. Just feels like this second semester has lasted forever.” He shrugs.

And it’s true. So much has happened. Louis found a boyfriend and broke up with him. He saw his father for the first time in years. He acknowledged his feelings for Harry. He quit his job and got a new one.

His mom told him she was proud he accomplished so much; in a way, Louis is too. But he’s exhausted. And he isn’t ashamed to say that he is one of those people who sees the thirty-first of December as a chance for a fresh start. Because there’s something about the fireworks in the night sky and the idea of 365 new sunrises that give him hope.

Louis shakes his head and agrees with Liam. They’re getting ready to go to Harry’s party, because the actor felt like throwing one. It’s not big, but it’s not a small get together either. Harry’s family is going to be there, and all of their friends and even Zayn is coming from America to celebrate with them.

Cara and Annie are going to come by and pick them up when they’re ready, and Louis can’t sit still for a minute, even Sophia makes fun of him – but then she smiles softly and does his hair, assuring Louis that he looks stunning.

“I don’t even know why I’m like this.” He says in a low voice when Liam is in the shower.

“Because you _so_ want to kiss him at midnight.” She smiles.

“How d’you-”

“I know I’ve only met you two- but you look at him like he put all the stars in the sky.” She whispers. “And he looks at you like you _are_ the stars.”

Louis knows his cheeks redden because he feels them getting hot instantly. He looks down and plays with his fingers while he speaks.

“It’s not that simple. The two of us.” He says. “There’s… Too much that happened before you arrived. Like- lots of miscommunication and him being stupid and me being… _Me._ ” Louis looks at Sophia. “I don’t want to hurt him again. And I don’t want him to hurt me.” He tells her. “We found this middle ground, and we’re… We’re good.”

“But oh- Louis. Why be good when you could be… Everything?”

Louis doesn’t answer. He lets her finish his hair and stays quiet for the time being. He doesn’t know if they could be _everything_ – not anymore. But he sure as hell wants to find out. If Harry lets him.

_God, he hopes he lets him._

 

-

 

The party is a loud affair. Louis spots some TV personalities and high society people as soon as he enters Harry’s flat. He also spots Nick Grimshaw already doing shots and does his best to remain polite – for Harry.

When the actor sees him, he comes walking so fast in his direction he might as well be running. They haven’t seen each other since Christmas morning, when they both drove off to their respective towns, and Louis will be the first to admit that he’s missed him.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Harry’s smile is so wide that his cheeks are probably hurting. “Hiii, how are you doing?” He asks Sophia when he sees her, pulling her in for a hug as well.

He hugs everyone except for Cara, whose hand he takes and kisses in a gentleman-y manner.

“Hello, devoted girlfriend, how are you on this fine New Year’s Eve?”

She bursts out laughing instantly and hugs him.

“Hi, knobhead.” She says, voice fond. “Missed you. How was Christmas?”

“It was great, yeah.” He replies. “So, there’s a buffet over there-” he points to the other side of the room, “and drinks in the kitchen. Help yourselves to everything. Every room is available except mine.” Harry says seriously.

“Oh, bummer. I so wanted to have sex on Harry Styles’ bed!” Annie whines. Cara laughs loudly.

“It’s okay, babe, we can still ruin his TV room couch…” She pats her on the back. Harry rolls his eyes and walks away, dragging Louis with him.

“I was just about to ask where Gems is…” He says. “Sucks that Niall stole her.”

“It’s already 2018 for them… Can you believe?” Harry asks and Louis simply nods, making a beeline for the kitchen going after alcohol. The actor follows him.

Niall didn’t get as many days off as he’d hoped for January, so he and Gemma decided to spend their New Year’s Eve in Australia of all places. Niall’s brother was going there and invited them, so Gemma got excited and now there they are. Harry says it’s okay, because his family is well represented here.

Throughout the night, Louis meets some of Harry’s cousins, childhood friends, and his _mom._ Anne isn’t how Louis imagined her to be. From what Harry said, Louis imagined her to be way more reserved and quiet, but she’s actually warm and kind and exactly the kind of person who would’ve raised Harry Styles.

She knows as much about Louis as he does about her, and that makes their conversation easy. Harry also introduces her to Liam and Cara, and their respective partners, and then everyone is acquainted.

At some point during the party Nick comes to talk to him, and Louis, repeating his _be polite_ mantra, smiles as warmly as he can, clinking his beer bottle with Nick’s.    

“How are you, Tommo?” He asks.

“Am good, how are you?” Louis asks back.

“Wonderful”, Nick responds with a grin on his face. “Not as good as Harry and Zayn, mind, but I’m just fine.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The journalist frowns. He’s already angry and this time it took Nick less than sixty seconds to get him there; if anything, Louis is impressed with the DJ’s ability to piss him off.

“Look over there”, he points with the bottle and Louis sees how close Harry and Zayn are. Zayn rarely smiles, but he _is_ smiling wildly as Harry bends his body forwards with how much he’s laughing at something Alexa Chung just said.

“It’s not like that between them.” Louis gains enough composure to speak. He knows it’s not because Harry has told him, and because Louis has met Zayn. Still, there’s something in the pit of his stomach driving him completely insane and making him want to go over there and claim Harry all to himself.

_Not your right, Louis. He’s not yours_.

“I know it’s not.” Nick agrees. “But if it takes you any longer it might be like that between him and someone else.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop being an asshole, Louis and please acknowledge that for the first time in my _life_ I am willing to help you.” Grimshaw raises his tone only a little. No one but Louis notices.

The party goes on unbothered around them.

“I missed my shot, Nick.” He says tiredly. “And Harry needs time.”

“Harry needs you to get your head out of your ass.” The DJ raises an eyebrow. “Look at that- eleven fifty-five… Time for me to find my midnight kiss.” He looks at his cellphone as he speaks, and then looks at Louis. “See you next year, Tommo.”

 

-

 

Harry finds his way to Louis’ side when the countdown is about to start. Louis thought he’d go over to his family and old friends’ group, but no – he inserts himself between Louis and Cara, hands Louis a champagne flute, and opens his huge, life-generating grin that Louis has grown so fond of and accustomed to.

Louis smiles back at him, nods in confirmation of whatever Harry is asking with his eyes. Right now, it seems like _are you ready for what is to come?_

He nudges Harry’s shoulder with his own and says _eleven_. Louder, Harry starts to count.

“Ten-”

People follow. In the ten seconds that it takes for this year to end and the next to start, there’s only one thing in Louis’ mind, and that is this boy, this _man_ right here, whose voice makes him shiver and whose smile makes him feel like world peace is possible – the fireworks explode.

They cut through the black like they’re super-imposed on the night, fiery blooms amongst the stars. Louis, somehow, finds himself less interested in them and more captivated by how they light up Harry’s face just as he smiles, like a perfect, real life photograph.

Harry places a hand on his waist, and just as Louis is about to kiss him, the actor drops a warm, hesitant kiss on his upper cheek, squeezing Louis’ hip in the process and traveling his mouth right to his ear.

“Happy two thousand eighteen, Lou.” He says, just to him, as everyone else screams around them.

Louis crosses his arms around Harry’s neck and pulls him close. Over his shoulder, he says _Happy New Year, Hazz_. Cara catches his eye in the crowd, and all she says to Louis is: good luck.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of love as always,  
> M.
> 
> Xx


	16. Chapter 16

        On the third of January, David Beckham calls Louis. It wasn’t like the journalist wasn’t expecting it, but he sure as hell didn’t know it would be this fast. He almost falls off the couch when Liam tells him who it is, and Sophia laughs so hard that soda comes out of her nose. Louis smiles satisfied.

They’ve been lazing around here since the day started. It’s cold, Harry’s back in Holmes Chapel and Cara traveled with Annie. Louis was bored, so he made Liam take him in, but that wasn’t a problem at all. Louis has always been a third wheel anyways, except for the little while he dated Ashton, so it’s not really a bother to deal with a couple now.

Granted, Louis _does_ wish he were in a couple himself. But that’s neither here nor there.

What matters, in this instant, is that David Beckham calls him and asks if Louis could please be in Los Angeles by the tenth.

“Sure”, Louis responds, trying not to show the panic in his voice. _How the hell is he supposed to move his entire life in a week?_

David explains to him a few more things, but what Louis really needs to know is that there will be a meeting on Friday, the twelfth, and that’s when they will decide the course the documentary will really take – it’ll also be when Louis will meet his “minions”, the interns that will help him do research. He’s very excited, he can’t lie.

When he hangs up the phone, he updates his friends on it.

“It’s just like… Crazy.” He says. “I’ve never imagined myself living anywhere else.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be exactly alone, right? Harry is there for the time being.” Liam says, nudging Louis’ thigh with his foot.

“You totally wanna tell him, don’t you?” Sophia asks with a smirk on her face.

“Yes.” He whines. Shit. “But I also need to go home, so I’ll do it when I get there.” Louis answers defeated, already getting up.

The couple sees him off and Louis gets in the car with a plan for the rest of the day. On his way home, Louis stops at Tesco’s and decides to do some adulting for the time being; he texts Harry and asks if they can meet at Louis’ flat later, and then calls his mom as he goes through the supermarket.

Jay is ecstatic for him, but then again she _is_ The Best Mom Ever, so Louis is only half surprised when she makes him tear up in front of the cheese, simply because she’s _so proud of him_.

Fortunately, Louis can say he is proud of himself too.

It’s not always that one has the courage to turn their life around. If Louis is being honest, he didn’t think he was one of those people until a few months ago when he was not only supported but _encouraged_ to do it. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it all goes back to the actor and honestly, Louis needs to get a grip sooner rather than later.

He doesn’t have a problem with what he is feeling and yes, he is, finally, starting to let it take more and more space within himself – but, still, he and Harry made a promise to each other, and Louis will do his best to keep it until it’s physically or emotionally impossible, because if there’s one thing he’s learned in the past twelve months is that having someone like Harry Styles in your life is the best gift the universe could grant you.

 

-

 

“Oh My God, Lou, this is amazing!” Harry smiles his childish smile when Louis tells him about the call; they hug, again, for the third time since the actor got to Louis’ place five minutes ago, and Louis lets himself be held just a little longer. “This means we’re flying together, right?”

“Does it? I don’t know, haven’t purchased a ticket yet, I got the call like, two hours ago.” He confesses.

“Haven’t booked my flight either; Niall said he would, but we could do ours right now so we can sit together.” He smiles, then looks down. “That is, uh, if you want to.”

“Hm, I don’t know. A long flight by your side? How would I survive it?” The journalist wonders.

“Hate you”, Harry huffs out and moves to the couch, “see if I cook you anything tonight.”

“You know you will, don’t even know why you’re fighting me…” He muses.

“I will do no such thing…” Harry responds already grabbing the remote. “Did you buy pasta?” He then asks.

Louis scoffs.

“Even got your favorite brand, brat.” He responds.

“Good.” The actor keeps staring at the TV, but there is a smile on his face.

Afternoons like this have become more common than one would imagine. Actually, they had been like this before, then stopped, and now, apparently, they are at it again. Louis isn’t complaining, nope, on the contrary, he enjoys every minute of it. He loves the fact that Harry is someone he can sit in silence with out of option.

You see, it’s not that they don’t have things to talk about. If they wanted, either one of them could come up with a topic right now and they’d start a long conversation about it, which eventually would turn into another conversation, and another, and another. However, their time together isn’t always filled with words.

And it’s different. Louis has mentioned this before, but it never really ceases to amaze him how still Harry makes him feel. They watch a couple of episodes of _The Big Bang Theory_ before the actor gets up to use the loo and then go to the kitchen, get started on their food.

While he cooks, Louis opens them a bottle of wine and Harry updates him on his family; he tells Louis about how his mom is doing and how much she liked meeting Louis – the journalist has to look down so Harry doesn’t see him blush, then it’s all under control.

For the first time in a long time Harry also mentions his dad. He says that they’ve been in touch and whilst Harry isn’t about to hand him a _Father of the Year_ award, he’s also been compelled by Gemma to try and understand his situation a bit better.

“It’s not been easy, mind you”, Harry turns around, holding a spoon. “But- I mean- I don’t even know him anymore, you know?” Louis nods. “I don’t know the man he’s become, I don’t even- it’s weird. He’s not my favorite person and I hold him accountable for… A lot of things. But he hasn’t tried to get any money from me yet, so let’s see where it all goes.”

“We’ve always known you’re a better person than me…” The journalist shrugs and Harry smiles fondly.

“Hey, Lou, changing topics… D’you have a place to stay in LA?”

“Uh- not really? I mean, Beckham said there’s this apart hotel where the staff’s gonna be staying, and if I wanted I could get a room… But- don’t know. Cara has a small flat over there, so if it’s close to the studio, then maybe I’ll talk to her.” He explains as he thinks out loud. Truth is, Louis hadn’t even thought about accommodations up until now.

“You know I have a house with many rooms, right?” Harry asks.

“What are you saying?” He asks back, a smile already playing on his lips.

“I’m saying that you wouldn’t survive in LA by yourself in the first few weeks, and that you don’t have to.” His voice softens in the last sentence.

“This is entirely for my wellbeing, of course…”

“It is.” Harry insists, then chuckles. “I’m serious, though. Say the word and you become my housemate for the semester.”

“Housemate.”

“Yes.”

The actor turns back to the stove.

“Harry?” Louis calls him and he turns around. “Which word exactly do I have to say?” He asks.

Harry laughs.

“Uh-” He seems to think for a bit. “Kiwi.”

“Kiwi?”

“Yes.” The actor smiles victorious.

“Okay.” Louis replies just to be a little shit, and Harry seems confused just for a second before he rolls his eyes and focuses on their dinner.

Later at night, when Louis is sure Harry is about to pass out on his couch for the hundredth time ever since they met, he accommodates himself behind him, and brushes Harry’s hair out of his ear just so he can speak with him.

“Hey, H?”

“Hm…” Harry mumbles.

“ _Kiwi_.” He chuckles as he says it. He feels so ridiculous.

Harry smiles with his eyes closed and turns around, burying his face in Louis’ chest.

“Knew it.” The actor voices.

Louis hopes he is groggy enough that he won’t notice his erratic heartbeats.

 

-

 

Los Angeles receives them with the best the American winter has to offer. It’s cold, of course, but it’s also such a beautiful day when they land that Louis thinks that maybe he won’t hate this time zone so much.

Harry is like a zombie by his side, even having slept the entire flight here, lucky for them, Harry’s security detail meets them at the tarmac – because there are way too many fans at LAX right now – and they’re both peacefully escorted into a town car that is there to pick them up.

Louis has already been to Harry’s LA house, so he knows it’ll take a while for them to get there, and lets himself enjoy the view while he listens to Green Day. Harry’s on the phone with his local management anyways, so Louis entertains himself as he can.

 

-

 

His first week of work is… Odd, to say the least. It starts with twelve British people around him and it ends with seventeen, and only six Americans. And, like, Louis was already expecting to see people from _home_ here, because Beckham had told him he wanted people who really understood about football in on it. Louis just wasn’t expecting to feel like he was in London when in Hollywood.

But he gets used to it. By day four he already knows who is very nice and who is a pain in the ass; who he wants to have drinks with and who he avoids saying good morning to; who is very smart and who is here because of connections. He has no idea how he landed a job that he is _in charge_ of something, but man does it feel good.

On the fifth day he meets Greg.

Greg is British, tall, not totally pale for a Londoner and has a nice voice. He chats Louis up when they’re getting lunch, and Louis pretends he doesn’t notice it, going back to Pelé and how they’re going to get to interview him.

“Is it better to fly him here or send someone over there?” He wonders out loud.

“Would you trust anyone to interview him? From the staff?”

“Don’t know, at the end of the day Beckham makes these calls… But I think I’d have to go myself… Guess we’ll have to see which is less expensive.”

“Uh, I don’t think budget is a problem for this documentary, Louis. Many sports brands are behind it…” He says.

“I know…” Louis answers. “Doesn’t mean we have to use every penny of what we have.” He says.

“You’re right…” Greg says. “So, what did you say you were doing tonight again?”

“I didn’t.” Louis smiles and takes a bite of his chicken nuggets. Thank fuck Harry cooks at home otherwise Louis would get extremely fat.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles.

“I was just gonna ask you out for drinks, Louis, no need to get super defensive on me…” Greg chuckles.

“Sorry. I really can’t tonight. I’m going out with a couple of mates.”

“Oh, nice, you have American mates?”

“Harry’s British”, he lets it escape. He’d talk about Zayn, who he is going out tonight with too, but that would only make things worse. Also, Louis has no idea where Zayn is from.

“That’s right, you’re friends with Harry Styles, right?” Louis simply nods. “How did you meet him?”

“Cara Delevingne is my best friend; I know a lot of people because of her.” There. It isn’t a lie.

Thing is: months ago Louis wouldn’t have had a problem in saying that Harry was _dating_ Cara. Months ago Louis wouldn’t have rejected Greg either. But it’s not months ago, it’s now. And now there is something in Louis that not only doesn’t want to say that Harry and his best friend are dating – _since it’s a very fake relationship, thank you very much –_ , he also doesn’t want to go out with an objectively handsome and nice man.

“Let me know when you’re done dropping names, Louis Tomlinson…” The man jokes.

“You asked, _mate_.” He responds with a smirk on his face.

“Mate.” Greg reflects. “You really are friend-zoning me, aren’t you?”

“Sorry.” Louis apologizes for the third time in less than ten minutes.

Uh.

 

-

 

Harry is wasted, Louis is on his way there and Zayn can _sing_.

They all go together to a karaoke bar, since none of them really wanted to just sit and drink tonight, but didn’t want to go clubbing either. The place is packed and it isn’t really exclusive like the ones Louis usually goes in London, so Harry and Zayn get recognized all the time.

The journalist is _pretty sure_ this is going to be a PR nightmare the next day if the quantity of pictures he himself has taken for fans is anything to go by, but he doesn’t mention it while they’re all having so much fun. Zayn’s singing Dua Lipa and the crowd is going wild.

Everyone is recording it, and Louis takes the opportunity to just watch Harry drink and sing at the same time, inevitably letting more alcohol spill on the floor and his shirt than actually go into his system – which is good, because really, they’ve had enough.

“LOUIS! DON’T PICK UP THE PHONE. YOU KNOW HE’S ONLY CALLING ‘CAUSE HE’S DRUNK AND ALONE!” Harry screams and Louis laughs unabashedly. They jump together and clap as Zayn gets to the end of the chorus.

“AND IF YOU’RE UNDER HIM, YOU AIN’T GETTING OVER HIM!” Louis points at Harry as he sings, then turns around with his pint in his hands.

Harry frowns and pouts at the same time.

“What happened, Harold?” He asks.

“Those rules are bullshit”, the actor replies quickly.

“Why?”

“I ain’t under him. But I’m also not getting over him, so.” He shrugs and takes another shot. “I’mma dance.” Then he walks away.

Shit.

 

-

 

When Louis wakes up the next morning he curses entire generations, because his head is pounding, his mouth tastes horrible and his entire body hurts. In the back of his mind he remembers saying he wouldn’t get pissed the night before, because he needed to be his best version tonight.

However, drunk Harry made Louis want to be drunk too – partly because he wanted to have as much fun, partly because he didn’t want to think about Harry’s statement about not getting over _someone_. So he drank. He drank and he got on stage with Zayn again to sing Imagine Dragons, and then him and Harry’s co-star smoked weed while Harry kept mumbling about how wrong that was until Zayn put a spliff in his mouth.

It was a good, long night, and when they got home and went to their separate rooms, Louis threw himself on the bed and slept soundly until now.

He checks his phone and sees it’s already eleven am, and Harry – being the crazy fitness person he is when he’s in Los Angeles – has probably already gotten up, gone on a run and is back in the kitchen working on brunch.

“Shit, Gems, this is bad.” He hears Harry saying on the phone. “He said that? Fuck, she’s gonna be so mad at me.” The actor sort of laughs, but it’s not genuine. Then he spots Louis and offers him a smile, gesturing for him to sit at the island. Louis nods, but first gets a mug on the way. He needs tea ASAP. “I guess there isn’t much I can do about it, now is there?” Harry asks his sister again. “Tell Niall to call me later, and- yeah. Tell him I’m sorry, before he calls me and- you know, gives me a lecture.”

Louis frowns, doesn’t understand much, but then Harry hangs up the phone and sighs, so he thinks maybe now isn’t the best time to ask. They say good morning to each other and the journalist waits for Harry to finish up their scrambled eggs so they can start eating together.

Louis was right; Harry woke up way earlier than him – the actor is in Nike running shorts, and he has a headband holding his sweaty hair back. He also looks a lot more awake than Louis does.

“This tastes really good, H”, Louis tells him. “Not that it’s any news.” He chuckles. Harry barely looks at him, so Louis nudges his foot with his own. “Hey.”

Harry breathes out and shrugs, eyes focused on his plate.

“The Sun’s running a story about me cheating on Cara and they’re going to use pictures from last night.”

“What?” The journalist asks.

Harry looks at him now.

“Management isn’t even going to try and stop it, they say it’s good for promo or whatever”, he rubs his face with both hands. “Niall told Gems they’re gonna try and make Cara come here, and I’m hoping she won’t, to be honest. It’s too much trouble and- ugh.” Harry throws his head back and stares at the ceiling.

“I didn’t even know there were paps there last night.”

“Me neither. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I can never let my guard down and have fun- not while I’m in the closet anyways.” Louis can handle many things; he cannot handle tears in Harry Styles’ eyes. “Everyone’s going to think I’m a _cheater_ , Louis, because of what a _paper_ is going to say. And- I would _never_ cheat on anyone, fuck’s sake, I’m _not_ my father,  I-” Harry cries now.

Louis gets up instantly and goes to his side, rubbing his back with one hand, the other holding his forearm.

“No one believes The Sun, Harry. They’re the scum of the earth, c’mon…” He whispers.

“It’s gonna hit the internet, then the American press and then-” he looks down. “Plus, it’s gonna make Cara look like _an idiot_ and she doesn’t deserve that…”

“She doesn’t care, H.”

“You don’t know that.” Harry whines. “I asked Gemma to try and stop this, but obviously _she_ can’t and Niall- Niall told her he stopped this kind of story too many times now, they’re gonna end up firing him if he fights for me again.”

“Well, fuck that. He needs to fight again. It’s your goddamn reputation!” Louis is very angry, but not with Niall, specifically. He’s angry with everything and everyone who has ever hurt Harry. And that includes himself. _Fuck_.

“It’s all right, Lou. Thanks.” He grimaces. “I just need to lay low for a while.”

“Kay…” Louis answers. “Does that mean we’re not going to the Beckhams’ dinner tonight?”

“What? Course we are. No one told me I couldn’t go anywhere; and even if they did- you’d still go.”

“As if I’d go without you.” He rolls his eyes.

“He’s your boss, you’d have too.” Harry smiles cheekily, already looking better.

“Nah. I wouldn’t. If you wanted to stay in tonight, then we’d stay in.” Louis assures him.

“Thanks, Lou.” He drops his head to Louis’ shoulder. “But we’ve already RSVP’d, and I’m looking forward to some lobster…”

Louis was not expecting that, so he laughs a bit too loud, making _Harry_ laugh at him. And then they’re both laughing in the middle of the kitchen, just staring at each other, and suddenly everything is okay again.

 

-

 

If Louis and Harry were a couple, and Louis is not saying that they are, because of… Reasons, they would totally be _Posh_ and _Becks_. Harry, of course, being the Posh Spice. Or, at least, that’s what he’s always thought.

Despite seeing David Beckham on a weekly basis, sometimes daily, Louis has never really _talked_ to his wife. Tonight, though, Louis has this opportunity, and out of all the things Louis could say, he’ll tell you this: Victoria Beckham does not smile. It’s like it’s almost impossible for her to do so.

She walks around like she’s better than everyone else and it’s such a contrast from her husband, but definitely not in a good way. And throughout the night it occurs to Louis that even though he and Harry might _look_ like them when they walk around in sports and designer clothes, Louis also thinks that Harry is _way_ better than Posh Spice.

Because everyone loves him. Harry smiles to everybody and everyone loves him instantly – everyone falls for him the second they start talking, because Harry is warm.

“What you thinking about, Tommo?” Greg asks him.

Greg, who works with him, who asked him out only a couple of days ago.

“That Harry’d make a better Posh Spice than the actual Posh Spice.” He answers before he can think. Louis _really needs_ a brain to mouth filter.

“What?” The man chuckles.

“Shit, nothing.” He laughs back. “I’m a horrible person.”

“Holy shit, you have a major crush on Harry, don’t you? Now I get it why you didn’t want to go out with me.”

“Look, that’s not- he’s dating my best friend.”

“You’re not denying you have a crush on him...” Greg muses.

“I don’t have a crush on him.” Louis responds. And it’s not a lie, because what he feels is _so, so much more_ than _just_ a crush.

“You know, he doesn’t look at you as if he was dating your best friend at all. And I’ve heard Hollywood is famous for its closeted actors… Wouldn’t surprise me if-”

“Look, mate”, Louis interrupts him, “it’s been a nice conversation, but I gotta go. And please don’t walk around spreading rumors you know nothing about.” He says, and then, for good measure, and because he actually likes working with Greg, “please?”

Harry’s just coming towards them, a smile plastered on his face while he pulls Katie Holmes by the hand, who’s giggling behind him, trying to follow in his footsteps...

“Lou, you’re not gonna believe what Katie just told me!” He says loudly and then sees Greg, who he previously met tonight. “Oh, sorry- am I interrupting- uh, something?” A frown forms instantly between his eyebrows, and Louis thinks it’s pretty cute.

“No, H.” Louis replies.

“I was just going over there actually, need a refill.” Greg holds up his glass of wine. “And don’t worry, Louis.” He says before walking away.

Louis nods gratefully, then turns around.

“Hi, we haven’t met, have we?” He says to Katie Fucking Holmes, as he takes her hand to shake.

They talk and drink and laugh, and Louis, for the thousandth time in the last couple of months, thinks that he wouldn’t want to be doing this with anyone else in the world.

 

-

 

January comes to an end way faster than Harry was expecting, and when he notices, he’s already getting a break from work to celebrate his birthday – on the first of February – with his friends and family.

This year, Harry wants it to be warm. Don’t get him wrong, he is a huge fan of winter – soft jumpers and nights in front of the fire have to be two of his favorite things, but he never really celebrated it properly growing up, and after he got into the industry, he never had a break.

Until now. Which is why Harry summoned up everyone he really _wanted_ to and convinced them to go to Mexico with him for his birthday.

One would think that being who he is and knowing how many people he knows, his list would be enormous, but the truth is Harry’s criteria this year was the following: the only people he invited are the people who _know_ everything there is to know about him, which, in this case, made the list pretty short.

From his family there’s only his mom (who miraculously accepted to take a long trip) and Gemma. Harry almost puts Niall in as well, and laughs mentally, wondering when he started thinking of him this way – maybe somewhere along the holidays, when he noticed that he and Gemma were together _for real_ , and are not going to break up any time soon. How times have changed.

Liam and Sophia are coming, and so are Cara and Louis, but that’s about it. Zayn had to stay back and shoot his scenes, and Nick couldn’t leave the show. It’s all right, though, Cancun is currently very sunny and waiting for him with a private beach and lots of beer inside a cooler.

“Hey, Lou, you ready?” Harry asks knocking on Louis’ door. They’re the only ones who are going to be flying from the United States. Everyone else is taking Cara’s family private jet from London. Harry only envies them a bit.

“I am, yeah. Could you come in for a sec, though?” He asks, so Harry opens the door wider and steps in. “Wanted to give your gift before we go, even if it’s, you know, before your birthday.”

“Okay…” Harry’s smile spreads on his face before he can do anything about it. “There are lots of boxes.”

Five, to be precise.

“There might be lots of gifts…” Louis muses.

“Lou! ‘M curious.”

“Okay, let’s do this!” The journalist says excitedly and catches a box that says _sight_. “Open this one first, because then I’ll need to blindfold you.”

“’M half scared, half excited now…” Harry chuckles, but grabs the box anyways, sitting on the bed to open it. “Okay…” He starts unwrapping it… “Louis!” He laughs when he sees it. “You didn’t!”

“I did.”

“Why?” He whines.

“Because you need to get some culture inside you.”

“One Tree Hill is _hardly_ cultural!”

“HOW DARE YOU?” The journalist asks outraged.

Months and months ago they were all at Harry’s place and both Louis and Gemma were going on and on about this TV Series, and Harry complained about it, because he remembers flashes of it, when Gemma would watch the show uninterruptedly. Back then, Louis made him _promise_ he’d watch it properly, because  One Tree Hill “is simply one of the best shows in the world, Harold”.

“I thought I was supposed to _like_ my birthday presents…”

“No. _I_ am supposed to like this birthday present, and make you like it too!” Louis corrects him.

Harry chuckles, defeated.

“Alright. _Thank you_ , Louis, for bringing _culture_ into my humble abode. Can I have my next present, please?” He smiles childishly.

“This place’s hardly humble”, the journalist smirks. “Yeah, you can. But first…”

Louis takes the scarf from Harry’s hair and places it over his eyes, tying it with a knot and making sure that Harry can’t see anything.

“Weirdo!” Harry calls him out.

“Shut up and listen.”

Louis grabs Harry’s phone and hits play; Harry immediately recognizes _Flowers in the Window_ by Travis playing.

“What’s that?” Harry smiles. “I love that song!”

“I know…” Louis says. “Here…” He puts Harry’s phone in his hand, then leads his finger to a specific place on the screen. “Touch.”

Harry does, and listens to the first chords of _Sweet Disposition_ , by the Temper Trap. He touches again, _Wouldn’t it be Nice_ , by the Beach Boys. Again: _Use Somebody_ , Kings of Leon.

“Did you…” He starts asking. “Did you make me a playlist?” Harry asks.

Louis chuckles.

“I did.” Harry can almost see the blush in his cheeks by the way his voice gets, and he is very proud that he _knows_ Louis just as well as Louis knows him nowadays.

“I love it.” He says.

“Good.” Louis replies. “Here, next one-” he replaces Harry’s phone with a round box.

Harry opens it and knows immediately what it is. And it’s _such_ a Louis’ gift, this one – it’s thoughtful, and perceptive. It’s something that Harry has never really _told_ him, but it’s a part of his life, and Louis… Louis _noticed_.

Harry brings the box closer to his face and inhales the scented candle before another smile threatens to split his face in two.

“Guess this goes for scent, then? And the music was for sound…”

“You’re a smart, lad.” Louis muses. “Can you guess what I got you for taste?”

Harry refrains from commenting how _cute_ and _couply_ this is, mainly because _he_ needs to remind _himself_ that Louis is _not_ his boyfriend and they are _not_ a couple. If he’s being completely honest, it gets harder every day.

“Uh- did you buy me a cake?” He asks.

“Close.” Louis says, voice low. “I _baked_ you a cake. Well, cupcakes.”

“You _baked_?” Harry asks a hundred percent surprised. “Really? How? When?”

“With the help of the internet… And Lottie and mom on facetime”, he laughs. “In the middle of the night, because I needed you to be asleep.” Louis then places one cupcake in Harry’s hand. “There’s more where this is one came from.”

“I’m half scared of getting food-poisoning… You sure you did this ri-OUCH!” He complains when Louis smacks him on the shoulder.

“Stop being an asshole and eat your damn cupcake.”

Harry laughs, and then eats it. For the surprise of absolutely everyone under the sun: it tastes amazing.

“Lou!” He basically moans while chewing. “This is so good, oh my God!” He swallows and goes for another bite. “Jesus! Weren’t you the one who couldn’t cook?”

“I… Like I said, mom and Lottie helped from afar.”

Harry chews a bit more then swallows.

“It’s really, really good. Thank you.” He grabs one of Louis’ hands and squeezes. “Uh- what is there for… Touch?” He asks.

_Please tell me it’s you, please tell me it’s you_.

Louis takes a step closer, fitting himself between Harry’s legs.

_Yes, please, yes!_

Then he rubs his thumb on Harry’s bottom lip.

_C’mon, Louis, touch me_.

“You had a bit of frosting there…” He explains. “Ready for the next one?” Louis asks and steps back.

_What? No. This is counterproductive. Louis! Get back here._

“Y-yeah.” He responds, voice weak.

Then he feels Louis stepping even further away and he is _so_ confused.

“Be careful with this one.” Louis says, and next thing Harry knows he has something small, soft and _fury_ in his hands.

“Wha- Louis. What.”

“I’mma untie your scarf now…” He says.

“Louis, you got me a cat!” Harry exclaims exasperatedly as he blinks into the light, adjusting his hands so he’s holding the small cat properly.

It’s a kitten, actually. And it’s a new spark of life in the softest, white and cream fur. Her bluer than blue eyes tell of pure energy tempered by a little bit of nervousness. She leaps from Harry’s lap to the bed with the sudden pounce of a tiger, gaining confidence as Louis cheers her on.

Harry can tell instantly that she is sassy, but very kind too. She goes back to his lap and buries her small head in Harry’s shirt, and he is already gone for her – the queen of her human subjects, he thinks.

“Oh my God! I love her.” Harry says, his eyes a bit watery as he pets her behind her ears.

“I thought we could use some life in this big house.” Louis says. “And- you could use some company when I’m not here to cuddle you.”

Harry can’t even fathom a day in which Louis won’t be here to cuddle him, but he doesn’t say that. He just nods, and looks at Louis as if he’s every star in the night sky, and concludes, that maybe, just to him, Louis is more beautiful and way more shiny than any of them.

“I love her! I love it all, Louis I…” Harry gets up, still holding the nameless kitten in his arms.

“I know.” Louis says. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.”  Harry hugs him carefully. “This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

_You’re the best gift I’ve ever gotten_ , he doesn’t say. But- Louis smiles at him, and his eyes are bright, and Harry thinks, with a little bit of hope and a little bit of certainty, that he might just know that. And maybe, _maybe_ , he’s starting to feel the same.

 

-

 

They get into a five hour flight with lots of cupcakes and an argument going on. Harry’s maid agreed to take care of the kitten while they’re traveling, and when she asked her name, both Harry and Louis came up with their picks.

Louis wants to call her _Rose_. Harry wants to call her Georgia.

“Harry, think about that lil face!” He keeps saying as they take their seats in first class. “Georgia is an old woman’s name!”

“Georgia reminds me of _royalty_ , Louis! And she’s a queen- she won’t be a kitten forever and you know that. When she gets older, she’ll need a name fit for a Queen.” Harry reasons, still stuffing himself with cupcakes. He can’t _believe_ Louis made them.

“That’s very unreasonable and you know it…” He huffs.

“It’s actually not.”

“Shut up and give me a cupcake…” The journalist replies.

Harry laughs, because Louis _always_ does that when he’s losing an argument. They finish eating before the plane takes off, and when it does, Harry presses play on his birthday playlist, filled with his favorite songs, and rests his head against the seat, smiling peacefully as Louis grabs a book to read.

 

-

 

Everyone is already there when they arrive, and alongside the hotel staff, they welcome Harry the minute he gets to the lobby as if his birthday were today and not tomorrow. It’s a bit overwhelming, if he’s being honest. Louis laughs as if he already knew this would happen, and he notices that Sophia films it all. Harry’s very happy, he can’t lie.

“Hi, mom, I’m so glad you came”, he hugs her first, wrapping his arms tightly around Anne.

“Of course, baby.” She replies.

He makes his round hugging everyone, and feels Louis doing the same. When they’ve all said their hellos, they settle for going to their respective rooms and changing. It’s still four pm and they can hang out at the beach, the temperature warm enough for a group of Britons who aren’t used to the heat at all.

Sophia and Liam are together, and so are Niall and Gemma, Louis and Cara – because they missed each other. Anne has her own room and so does Harry, so they all agree on being back in fifteen minutes, and that’s how in half an hour they’re all already on the beach, sitting around and talking to each other.

“We could go running tomorrow morning, H, sunrise must be gorgeous here…” Liam muses.

“Are you really gonna go running on your _birthday_ , loser?” Cara asks.

“I think it’ll be awesome, too”, Harry says, ignoring his fake girlfriend. “Five-ish?”

“Perfect.” Liam smiles.

“You guys are insane”, Sophia rolls her eyes. “If you wake me up before eight I will murder you.” She warns Liam and everyone laughs.

“Knew I liked you for a reason…” Louis high-fives her.

Harry likes watching his mom with his friends. He noticed it on New Year’s and he can see it here, too: Anne kind of lets go of her armor when she’s around people. It’s beautiful to watch, and he worries that she’s lonely at home – but then again, she wouldn’t leave that house for anything. He respects it, he’s just… Really freaking happy that she came here.

When everyone’s a bit distracted, Gemma nudges him on the shoulder and tells him that she scheduled a massage session for the three of them tomorrow – him, her, and their mom.

“Thanks, Gems.” He says with a smile on his face.

“Race you to the water?” She asks, and they run.

 

-

 

They end up organizing a _luau_. Harry already had this in mind, and with the help of the very kind hotel staff, the next day at five pm, they all find themselves on the beach again; this time with food and drinks. They’re relaxed and the weather is amazing if he says so himself.

His mother stays until they sing happy birthday, then says she’s going back to her room, because it’s too warm out for her. Harry thanks her profusely, hugs her one more time and lets her go, understanding that this isn’t exactly her crowd.

As the sun is setting, Niall grabs an acoustic guitar and sits by the fire, playing an old _Plain White T’s_ song.         

“Such a classic”, Louis muses as he sits by Harry’s left side.

They all sing _everything_ – from Jason Mraz to P!nk, from Ed Sheeran to Rhianna. Gemma and Cara scream to _California King Bed_ , and that’s when Harry knows people are a bit tipsy. It’s perfect; everything about tonight is so perfect.

It’s perfect the way Sophia leans on Liam’s shoulder when Niall sings _You’re Beautiful_ by James Blunt, and it’s perfect how Gemma records him on her phone, acting like the proud girlfriend Harry has never seen. For someone who always has her walls up, Harry sees his sister tear them all down for the blonde Irishman that is sat by his right side in the circle.

It’s perfect, and it’s poetic how the fire burns as they sing _I See Fire_.

It’s even more perfect how he feels – so pleasantly buzzed. Cara looks at him then and raises an eyebrow towards Louis, and when _Harry_ looks at Louis, he finds the journalist already staring at him, a small smile playing on his lips.

Louis’ lips are a pale pink that remind Harry of a rose bud; the top lip is thinner, but not too thin; the bottom one is larger, a little bit plusher. Harry stares at them intentionally, and wants so, so bad to feel them against his again, properly this time, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He reaches forwards before he can think, and places on hand on Louis’ cheek. He doesn’t care about his friends around them, and Louis doesn’t seem to mind them either.

“Lou.” He says.

“Come with me.” Louis asks him, grabbing his hand and pulling Harry up.        

The actor looks around, and everyone smiles. Niall keeps singing and Liam sings with him, but they’re all aware that Harry and Louis are leaving together. He sees Sophia winking, and it’s not for him. Louis blushes. All right then.

Louis intertwines their fingers and takes Harry inside the hotel, in the lifts, all the way up to Harry’s floor. Harry’s mind doesn’t know where it is at, just that he’s with Louis, and Louis _has_ to know what he wants, and Louis hasn’t drunk _one_ drop of alcohol tonight, but is still pulling him by the hand.

When they reach Harry’s room door, Louis stops right there. Harry rests his head against the wall and just stares at him.

“I need to fly back to LA tonight.” Louis says, voice low. “There’s been a problem with one of the players’ schedule and they’re going to need me there first thing tomorrow…” Harry makes a protesting noise, listening _and_ feeling his head thud against the wall.

“Okay.” He sighs frustrated.

“Okay?” Louis asks, stepping closer.

“Yes, it’s your job, of course it’s okay.” He tries to smile.

“I wish I could stay, Harry.” The journalist says. “I really do.” He gets closer and his eyes are so conflicted. Harry honestly cannot move. “There’s just- Harry, there’s so much I-” Louis surges forwards and kisses him.

He kisses him and the world falls away. It’s slow and soft, and comforting in ways that words could never be. One of his hands rests on Harry’s hips and the other below his ear, his thumb caressing the actor’s cheeks as their breaths mingle. Harry runs his fingers down Louis’ spine and pulls him closer, until there’s no space left between them – he doesn’t want to there be any space between them, ever again.

The actor feels Louis’ heart beating against his chest and kisses him deeper, and decides against holding back the whines in the back of his throat. Louis slams his lips to Harry and all but knocks the wind from his lungs, but Harry doesn’t even need a second to react the moment Louis’ tongue invades his mouth, wild and assured and skilled – perfect in a way that only Louis can be, in a way that makes the word _perfect_ feel exhausted and weak and not enough.

It quickly turns into a very sloppy kiss, because they don’t even know what they want more, where they want to touch. Harry’s arms go up and tangle around Louis’ neck as Louis’ grabs on his waist, holding him tight against the wall and gluing their bodies to each other. Harry arches his back as Louis bites his bottom lip, and the journalist exhales the softest of moans when Harry’s leg falls in between his.

Louis straddles Harry’s thigh and rubs his dick there as Harry helps him, holding him by his asscheeks and groaning into his mouth as their tongues push against each other and tangle and dance and fight and do any kind of metaphor ever written before.

The fact is that they kiss; that Louis kisses Harry. That he goes from uncertain to hot, to soft again, slowing down the pace and burying his fingers in Harry’s hair, caressing his scalp as he pulls away slowly, giving Harry soft, tiny pecks, not only on his lips, but also on his cheeks, his closed eyes, his forehead.

Harry smiles in a daze, and opens his eyes again just to find Louis staring back at him.

“Goodnight, H.” He says, dropping his hands and taking a step back. “See you at home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even I can't believe we're here.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are :)  
> Hope you guys have an amazing week!

       Harry still has a few days off after the weekend of his birthday, so he decides to go back home and enjoy them with his mom, since he doesn’t know when the next time he’s going to see her is. He takes the private jet back with everyone, well aware that Louis – who kissed him two nights before – is somewhere in Harry’s LA house lounging around and starving because he can’t cook to save his life.

If Harry closes his eyes, or simply stares at a distance and clears his mind, he can still feel Louis’ lips on his and his hands on his body. He can feel how they pressed together against that wall because both their bodies were _weak_ for each other, and he can feel their chests and crotches connecting, the electricity that ran through his spine. If Harry tries, and sometimes he doesn’t even need to, he can still remember clearly how his heartbeat didn’t slow down even after Louis left and Harry went into his room.

If Harry thought he was _in love_ with Louis before, now he is pretty sure that he loves him. It’s tricky, really. There’s so much water under the bridge. Plus, Harry never really _knew_ romantic love, so he might still be a bit fuzzy on the details, but something… _Something_ tells him he’s right.

Because now, more than ever, Harry can tell that he _knows_ Louis. He knows all the things Louis likes and dislikes, what he really loves and what he can’t stand. He knows that up until a while ago Louis couldn’t go without tea in the morning, but America is growing on him just like coffee – Harry _knows_ that the journalist drinks coffee when Harry’s not seeing, just so Harry won’t bother him.

Harry knows that Louis likes to sleep late and, more than that, he _can’t_ go to sleep early – it’s physically impossible for him, even if he needs to wake up really early in the next day; Louis says that he hates naps, but takes them all the time. His immune system sucks and he’s often sneezing, but hates admitting he is sick, even though he loves when Harry does something about it.

The actor knows when the other man is cuddly, angry, happy, and sad. But Louis hasn’t been sad lately. No. Louis has been as happy as one can be in the past few weeks, except for the days in which he misses his mom terribly – Harry thinks he’ll learn how to deal with it in time. Harry did.

The only thing Harry _doesn’t_ know is how Louis feels. He suspects, of course he does, especially after _The Kiss_ , but Harry’s been wrong before, and it hurt like hell to find out for sure. So this time… Well, this time he’s not going to be the one to take the first step.

 

-

 

“Honey, you all right?” Anne asks.

“Yes, mom, why?” The actor replies lazily from the couch. It’s been a slow day, and that’s why it’s been perfect: only the two of them in the house, good food, a bit of rain, and a romantic comedy on the telly.

“Your phone’s been ringing for about five minutes now”, she explains.

“Think I was dozing off for a minute there”, he smiles. “Who is it?”

“I think it’s Cara. Here, she texted you…” Anne hands him the phone and Harry takes a look at the screen.

**_Hey, H, can we meet before you go back to LA?_**

Cara almost never asks to see him if she knows he’s resting. Weird.

**Sure, tomorrow okay?**

**_Yes._**

**I’ll stop by, then wait till I have to go to the airport.**

**_See you tomorrow_** **.**

“I’ll have to go back to London earlier than I thought.” Harry tells his mom. “She wants to meet before I travel back.”

“Okay, we can drive after breakfast, yeah?”

“You don’t have to, mom, it’s okay. I’ll ask for a car or something.”

“Nonsense, I’m driving you. Gives me an excuse to have lunch with Nemma.” His mom smiles.

_“What did you just say?”_ Harry asks her, squinting his eyes.

“That I want to have lunch with your sister and Niall…?”

“Yeah, but you called them _Nemma_.”

“Oh, yes! That’s how Louis calls them, did you know?” Anne says excitedly. “I thought it was so clever! He’s wonderful, H.”

_He’s everything_.

“I guess so”, he chuckles.

Harry knows his mom wants to ask him something, but she doesn’t, at least not for now. Instead, she sits on the same couch as he his and pats her lap so he can lay there. Harry puts his head on his mom thighs, and she runs her hand through his hair. Then, after she takes a deep breath, she asks:

“How are you and Louis?”

Her voice is curious and non-judgmental, which is good.

“I really don’t know”, the actor says truthfully. “We’ve blurred some lines, that’s for sure.”

“Well, from what I saw…” She starts, “I think it’s gonna be okay.”

“Why do you say that?” He asks her, praying, hoping that his mom has an answer.

“Because love finds a way.”

Harry doesn’t know how to respond to that. Because here is his mom, someone who’s been through hell and back because of love. Someone who was cheated on and abandoned with two children, who developed depression because of it, who never really found anyone after Harry’s father left… Here she is, this incredible woman, telling him that _love finds a way_. Encouraging him to believe in it.

Anne is an unbelievably strong woman, and Harry is _so_ proud to call her his mother.

Harry squeezes her knee as if he’s thanking her, and she sighs.

“I never told you that”, his mom whispers, “and maybe I should have, long ago, but… I don’t regret a thing about my life, Harry. And sometimes I think you believe that I do. But I promise you that I don’t.” Harry turns around, his back flat on the couch, head still on her lap, and looks up at her. “If I were given a choice, I’d choose the same life all over again.” Anne smiles serenely.

“Why?” He questions in awe.

“Because you’re gorgeous, inside and out, and _I_ raised you. And it’s a Wednesday night, and your head’s on my lap and you’re in love with an amazing boy… How could I regret anything?”

Harry doesn’t answer with words, but… His mom knows. She knows by the way his eyes get watery and he closes them trying not to cry. She knows because he sits up and hugs her, tells her he loves her infinitely.

When Harry goes to sleep, the only thing in his mind is _please let my mom be right, please let my mom be right_.

Love needs to find a way right now, or Harry doesn’t know if he’ll make it this time.

 

-

 

Cara answers the door the second he knocks on it, and he laughs immediately because she looks really funny.

“What- what the fuck is that on your face?” He asks her.

“It’s a beauty mask, Styles.”

“Well, you look horrible.”

“Please, be more of a gentleman!” She asks as she follows him inside the flat.

“Sorry, sorry…” He chuckles. “I’m such a terrible boyfriend, you look _gorgeous, baby…_ ” Harry jokes.

“Yeeeeah, about that.” Cara states. “Harry, take a seat.” She says seriously. “I think we need to break up. No. We need to break up. This is me breaking up with you.”

“What?” Harry frowns. “You do know we’re not _actually_ dating, right?” He chuckles.

“No, H. I’m breaking up the contract. And if your team needs me to pay a fortune to get out of it then I will, but- I can’t do this anymore. Not when it’s hurting people I care about.”

“What are you on about? Is Annie…”

“No, she’s okay.” She smiles. “This is about you and Louis.”

“Cara…”

“H, no. I love you.” The model tells him. “We’ve known each other a year, yeah? And I love you like a brother.” He nods. “D’you know who else I love like a brother? Louis.”

“Okay…”

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on between you two, but there _is_ something going on between you too. And I know whatever it is, I’m not- like, stopping it or whatever, but I also don’t wanna stay in the middle of it? I don’t know, I… I don’t wanna be the cover up for this. Do you get it?” She asks a bit uncertain.

“I mean- yes? Yes, I do. Not that you’re in the middle of anything, but- yes. I can see there’s some logic to what you’re saying.”

“Good.”

“I’ll make sure no one makes you pay for breach of contract… We- we should call Niall, yeah?”

“In a bit.” Cara holds his wrist before he can grab his phone. “Promise me something first?”

“If I can.”

“Please, just get Louis this time ‘round.” She almost pleads.

The actor takes a deep breath.

“It’s not entirely up to me, you know?”

“Yes. Yes, I know.” Cara sighs and then moves closer, hugging him. “This doesn’t mean you’re getting out of my life. Let’s make sure our teams make this the friendliest break up this industry has ever seen. Please.”

Harry chuckles over his head and tightens his arms around her smaller frame.

“Friendliest break up it is.” He whispers.

The future’s just gotten a little bit more interesting.

 

-

 

Louis is in the middle of a fight with the stove when Harry gets home. He knew he was going to arrive late, so he wasn’t expecting him until the middle of the night. But there he is, inside his house, at eleven thirty in the night, laughing at Louis before the journalist can even turn around.

Louis’ heart does weird things. It stops, accelerates, threatens to explode in a billion pieces inside of him and goes up to this throat… All at the same time. He smiles as he tries to hide his nervousness, and turns off the stove, giving up on making any food completely.

“Where’s my cat?” It’s the first thing that comes out of Harry’s mouth.

“Think she’s in the living room… Rose and I were cuddling on the couch right before I decided to make something to eat.” He responds casually, as if his brain isn’t about to combust with how much he wants to hug Harry, and kiss Harry, and just be connected to him.

“Georgia, baby, where are you…?” Harry turns around and walks towards the living room.

Louis follows his suit, a stupid smile already on his face. He can’t _believe_ Harry really wants to name that cute kitten _Georgia_. Jesus Christ.

“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” He finds Harry already on his knees, taking the cat in his arms. “Did Louis take care of you? I hope he did. I’m sorry we didn’t have much time to get to know each other last week, I promise you I’ll be the best dad in the world now…” He keeps talking to the cat.

And- okay, Louis isn’t _jealous_ of the cat, he’s just- _why is Harry talking more to that cat than with me?_ He wonders.

Harry rejected him on New Year’s Eve. Subtly, but he did. And even though he allowed Louis to kiss him on his birthday, the journalist is afraid it was a one-time thing, just because they were too caught up in the moment.

Louis clears his throat and Harry looks up.

“How was London?” He asks Harry.

“The same.” The actor answers.

“Good.”

God, this is so weird. Louis doesn’t want it to be weird.

He’s about to say something when Harry gets up, and speaks first.

“Cara broke up with me.” The actor blurts out. “Well, broke off our agreement anyways.”

“She did WHAT?” He asks alarmed. _What the fuck?_

“We’ve called Niall and everything… The news will hit the media the day after tomorrow.”

“What the fuck, Harry, why? Are you okay with this? Did she give you a reason? Why didn’t she _tell me_?” Louis knows he’s pacing. That’s what he does when he’s nervous. He walks from one side to the other, sometimes in circles.

Harry’s standing in front of him, the cat snuggling close to his body as he caresses its fur. Louis needs something in his hands.

“Can I hold Rose, please?”

“You can, if you call her by her name”, the actor smirks.

“I’m not calling this cat Georgia, Harry, no matter what you say.”

“Well, you will, because she’s _my cat_ , you _gave_ her to me.”

“Exactly, _I_ gave you. I have rights!” He argues.

“Nope.” He smiles.

“Fine. I don’t want to hold the cat anyway.”

“Okay…” Harry keeps smiling, and sits down on the couch. “C’mon, sit here.” He gestures to his side and Louis does so. “Cara had her reasons to stop it, and she’s your best friend, so I’m sure she’ll tell you if you ask her.”

“Why can’t _you_ tell me?” He asks.

“’S just not my place…”

Louis sighs heavily and rests his head against the back of the couch, letting his entire body sag on the cushions.

Truth is: he _knows_ why Cara did it. She’s given him so many fair warnings in the last couple of months that he’d be an idiot if he didn’t understand what is going on. It’s still hard for him, though. So hard that he almost started a – _very stupid_ – fight because of the name of a cat.

So Louis man’s up, gathers some courage inside of him, and turns his head slightly to the left side, staring at Harry’s beautiful frame.

“Hey, Hazz?” He calls him. “Are we going to talk about the other night?”

“What night?” Harry asks.

“Your birthday. The night we kissed.” Louis clarifies, knowing that Harry only asked him the question to buy himself some time.

“I don’t know. I’m scared.” He responds and carefully places _Georgia Rose_ on the carpet. “Last time we kissed you didn’t want me and- honestly, Louis, I can’t have you reject me again.” Harry speaks and Louis’ heart hurts just a little. _You were such an asshole_ , he thinks. “Back then I was so unimportant that you didn’t even bother to tell your best friend about it.”

_What? No_.

Louis shakes his head vehemently.

“You’re wrong. It is the opposite.” The journalist corrects him immediately. “I didn’t tell her because I knew exactly what she’d say, and I wasn’t ready to hear it.”

Harry looks at him – eyes big, hopeful; mouth slightly open in… Surprise.

“What does that mean?” The other man asks, in the smallest of voices.

Louis once again needs to build up courage, gather his thoughts, and convince himself that _this is it_. They need to get it right this time. There’s no room for error here. He needs to be honest.

“From the very first time we met, I was attracted to you. I was attracted to you with the kind of trance that makes you forget that butterflies are in your stomach, even when they’re dancing like crazy in there at the sight of someone so beautiful. You were the right blend of shy and sweet, and with time I started to learn that that’s exactly how you are… All the time.” Louis tells him. Harry’s completely still. “You, quite simply, are the kindest and most reliable person I ever met. I think- I think reliable might be a weird adjective, yeah? But you know how I get with words and their meanings.”

“You _are_ a nerd and a grammar freak, after all.” Harry accuses lightly.

“I am…” He nods with a smile on his face. “ _Reliable_ is everything, because without it… How can friendship, love, any kind of feeling really, grow? Reliability paves the road for trust and I trust with you my life, Harry Styles. Partly because in the last year you’ve… You’ve _become_ my life.” It feels big, to say it. It feels like something Louis would _never_ say to anyone. Except that he’s saying it, to Harry. Because it’s true. “I am never more calm, more whole, or more healthy than when you are by my side.” He tells him. “And it took me a while to get here, God, I know it did…” Louis chuckles. “But _please_ believe me when I say that there’s no space in my heart where I don’t want to love you.” Another deep breath. “All you have to do is say that you forgive me for taking a long while to figure it all out.”

Harry’s mouth hangs open for the entirety of Louis’ speech and it makes Louis bloody nervous. Because here he is, laying it out on the actor. Here he is finally acknowledging his feelings for someone who he was once sure had feelings for him, but that now has no reason to believe him anymore.

Here is Louis praying, hoping that Harry will give him another chance, but, in a way, preparing himself to get a _no_ for an answer. 

“Louis…” He starts. “D’you know why I even started to have feelings for you? Even after I said it was just harmless flirting?” Harry asks; the journalist simply shakes his head. “Well, let me tell you then.” The actor smiles kindly, clearly just as nervous as Louis. “I fell for you because every time we are together you forget your phone exists, and because whenever you grab a drink, you get me one too without me having to ask.” He sighs. “I fell for you because once you had an amazing day at work and got to my place just to find out that _I_ had a terrible day at work, and you didn’t say _‘yeah, yeah, yeah, but let me tell you about my day’._ You sat and listened to my awful day and you didn’t say a thing about your amazing day… Even though you could have.

This is why I fell _in love_ with you. I can’t tell you exactly what day, and it was no _specific_ thing you did… It was the accumulation of all those little things. I woke up one day and it was like I pressed a button that’d been there all along and I went… I love him. And I never once stopped.” Harry exhales the last sentence softly. “That’s when I finally understood what you said the first time we met.”

“What did I say?” Louis asks; his voice only above a whisper.

“That once you start loving someone, you just keep loving them. No matter how much it destroys you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of Louis’ lungs the second Harry says it. The mere thought of having hurt this man makes the journalist want to throw up. He can’t believe he was this stupid.

“H.” Louis asks. “Please, _please_ you have to know I never-”

“Meant to hurt me intentionally? I know”, he smiles, “but that was it, wasn’t it? A lot of the time you would talk about your feelings, and your feelings didn’t involve me.” He shrugs.

“Didn’t. Past tense. Harry, I am _so_ in love with you.” Louis gets closer. “I love you so much, I- I want to be with you. I think I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get to kiss you in the next few seconds.” He chuckles nervously.

“What are you waiting for, then?”

Nothing. Louis doesn’t have to wait for anything.

He cradles Harry’s head in his hands and leans in at the same time Harry does the same, and when their lips touch there’s no urgency to it. It’s not messy like the first time and it’s not desperate like the second. It’s sober, quiet, almost as if they’re both worried the world will finally change in its axis if they move too fast.

Harry raises one of his hands to circle Louis’ wrist carefully, and the other goes to Louis’ thigh – he doesn’t do anything much, just puts some pressure there, uses it as support to hold his body. He tilts his head to one side and Louis goes to the other, and so they fit a bit better.

Louis has never kissed anyone like this, but it makes sense; he’s never felt like this either. Not once has his mind been so present for a moment or his body so electrified. With every sweep of Harry’s tongue Louis feels like he’s rediscovering a new universe, a place where love exists and never dies – where he doesn’t need to worry about anything but keeping this beautiful man happy.

Harry is _beautiful_. And he’s beautiful because he’s known defeat; and suffering, and struggle and loss, and he’s found his way out of the depths. Harry has an appreciation, a kind of sensitivity and an understanding of life that fills him with compassion, gentleness… Something so entirely _him_ that Louis cannot describe. Beautiful people do not just happen, they are built.

Harry was built upon scary, lonely nights and a tad of glamour, and that’s why he’s made of contradictions, Louis thinks. That’s why he intensifies their kisses and straddles Louis’ on his couch, but never really connects their chests; it’s why he runs his tongue on Louis’ lips and bites the bottom one strongly, but his hands are so careful on Louis’ arms that they shiver beside himself.

This man is made of gold and stardust, and magic. And Louis loves him. Louis loves him with a love he’s never really known, but now that he is feeling it, he believes how possible and tangible it really is. Which is why when Harry kisses, he kisses back to the best of his abilities.

It’s why he places his hands underneath Harry’s shirt and feels how hot and smooth his back is, and how endless his skin seems to be as he eagerly roams his hands there, trying to get to know and map out every inch of the actor’s body.

Louis kisses Harry like he’s always wanted to, since that very first day. He scratches his shoulder blades just a little bit as he moves the other hand to the actor’s hair, and as Harry whimpers in his mouth, he scoots back on the couch, finally moving Harry to sit on his lap.

If there was ever a choice to be made as to how Louis wants to spend the rest of his life, he thinks that this moment right here would definitely be one to choose.

He starts to grow hard when Harry kisses his neck. Louis is so pliant underneath him that something tells him that the actor could do _anything_ he wanted and Louis would happily comply. He throws his head back on the cushions and lets Harry have his way with him, but they never go any further than this.

Harry goes from languid, sexy kisses to little pecks all over Louis’ neck, then jaw, then cheeks, nose, forehead, everywhere. Louis is so endeared he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When Harry scoots back just a little and a strand of hair falls onto his eyes, Louis sweetly puts it behind his baby ears, and stares at him in a way that he can only describe as ethereal.

Harry is heavenly.

“I love you”, the actor says as he leans forwards to peck Louis’ lips one more time. “God, it feels so good to finally say it”, he sighs and buries his face in the crook of Louis’ neck, inhaling deeply.

“How does it feel to hear it?” Louis mumbles through a smile, one hand still caressing Harry’s back under his shirt, the other playing with his hair.

“Dunno, you’ll have to say it again, just so I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks amusedly. “I love you, Harry Styles.” Louis whispers in his ear. Harry’s whole body trembles.

They stay in this position for a long time, simply feeling each other. At some point Georgia Rose joins them, and Harry is obligated to climb off Louis’ body, sitting by his side and cuddling closer to him again, the cat on both of their laps.

“I can’t believe you got me a cat”, he beams. “Well, got _us_ a cat.”

“It’s your cat; I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

“How can I be lonely when you’re here?” Harry asks, still looking at Georgia Rose and petting her.

“Yeah, H- we need to talk about this.”

“’Bout what?” He mumbles, looking up at Louis.

“Me, being here. I think it’s time I found a flat for myself.”

“Why?” Harry questions as he forgets the cat and tightens his arms around Louis’ middle, as if the journalist’s going to run away right now if he lets him go.

“Because, H.” He sighs. “When I bought your birthday gift I was already planning on doing it. I mean-” Louis continues before Harry complains, “I already knew I was in love with you, and I was planning on, you know, _being_ with you. And it’s not normal to live with your boyfriend after one day of relationship.”

“Screw normal.”

“H-”

“Also, _boyfriend_?” The actor raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I need to call Niall.” He then says out of the blue.

“What? Why?” Louis frowns.

“I need to tell him Cara and I are done, but I’m not broken hearted at all, because I’ve already scored another hottie… No, wait, can’t say that. Guess I’ll just say I got myself a _boyfriend._ ” He winks.

“I hate you.” The journalist squints his eyes.

“Thought you _loved_ me.”

“It’s a thin line”, Louis says unimpressed. 

Harry tries to look mad, but he softens two seconds later, speaking around a smile. “Is that what we are then? Boyfriends?” The actor asks.

“D’you _want_ to be my boyfriend?” Louis asks back. How sixth form of him.

“Do I want to be your boyfriend…?” The other man looks up amusedly. Louis punches him and he cackles up a laugh. “I don’t want to be your boyfriend if it means you’re moving out.”

“Harry…”

“Lou, c’mon. We’ve known each other a year, have been friends for _so long._ ” He pleads. “If you get a flat I’m going to have to sleep there every day anyways. Or you here. Our clothes will be split, we’re gonna have to deal with heavy traffic to see each other… Point is: we’re working our asses off, the only time we see each other is in the mornings and at night and- and you’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m gonna let another day go by without sleeping with you.” Harry finishes. Louis starts to speak again, but is cut off before he even has the time to formulate the first word- “You gonna fight me on this?”

“I… Won’t.” Louis says. “But we’ll revisit the topic.”

“Yeah, sure, when we decide where we’ll live in London.”

“You’re insane”, Louis chuckles. “But I’m going to let it slide for now, because I’m getting sleepy, to be honest.” He leans forwards, kisses Harry on the cheek, then on the mouth.

Harry closes his eyes and kisses him one more time, slotting their lips together and tangling their tongues one more time. Louis doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of this.

“I really need to call Niall though. Let him know where we’re at and- yeah. I promised him. Long ago.”

“How long?” The journalist smiles curiously.

“The first month, I think”, he chuckles. “Niall saw things before we both did.”

“We saw it too”, Louis assures him. “Just took us a while to acknowledge.” He shrugs. “You call him, I’ll be upstairs.”

“In my bed?”

“In the _shower_.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay, but- in _my_ shower?” Harry asks.

“You’re insufferable.” The journalist chuckles and gets up, fully intending to take a shower and then to go bed.

The actor joins him half an hour later, when Louis is already cuddly under Harry’s heavy comforter. Harry places Georgia Rose on Louis’ foot  and then lets Louis know he’ll take a shower – _it’s been one hell of a day_ , he says.

When Harry finally lies by his side, they’re both too sleepy to do anything; the actor lets him know that his team is duly notified, even though the Irishman called him every ugly name in his book for calling so late – this man never remembers time zones –, and that they’ll have a skype meeting over the week. Louis simply nods and rests his head on Harry’s  chest, like he’s been wanting to do for so long now.

Maybe Harry’s right, maybe they should stay here together after all. Louis thinks that home is not where you are born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease. And now that he’s here with Harry, there’s no other place he’d rather be.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A whole lot of fluff and smut... THANK GOD WE'RE FINALLY HERE!  
> (Jada, my saint of a beta, said this was her favorite chapter so far. Hope y'all enjoy it too.)

        Louis has never thought that preparing for a date could be this stressful. Like, really, he wants to kill Harry. Because here’s the thing: he knows he fucked up for a long time.  _ Harry _ knows he fucked up for a long time. So now, it is up to him to take the first steps towards their healthy relationship, which is why Louis is here, locked in a room, researching  _ good ideas for first dates _ on freaking Pinterest instead of doing his actual job.

Harry is in freaking _Maine_ recording some external scenes for the movie. He’s been there for a couple of days now and he’s coming back tomorrow, expecting a date on his free day, and Louis has absolutely nothing planned; he’s such an idiot.

It’s just difficult, is all. Where do you take a freaking movie star on a first date when you have limited budget? Louis doesn’t know! Deep down he is very aware that Harry doesn’t need luxury; he needs somewhere to feel comfortable, where he won’t be recognized, where they can be themselves without worrying about a pap catching them.

Louis sighs and scratches his eyes till his entire face is red. He’s been awake since four in the morning, because he needed to get everything ready for today’s interviews, and now that his interns are better trained, Louis is finally able to relax for a bit.

He calls Cara when he’s already exhausted every online tip he’s come across.

“Hi, Lou”, she answers in a hurried voice. “How important is it? I’m really busy right now.”

“Not very.” He sighs defeated. “I need to take Harry out.”

“How dare you say _not very_?” She chuckles. “What d’you have in mind?”

“Bloody nothing!” He responds a bit angrily. “I want to do something nice for him, you know? And Harry’s the type of person who’d be happy with dinner and a movie, but we can’t do that given our… Situation. So I don’t know. It’s not like I can take him to the moon or anything.”

“Well. Maybe not the actual _moon_ , but-” the model clicks her tongue and Louis can almost see her clever smile. Cara’s had an idea. “Harry’s into the universe stuff, isn’t he?”

“I mean, yes?”

“Take him to the Observatory, Louis!”

“I’ve thought of that, it’s too crowded.” He whines. “I’ve thought of literally _everything_ , you don’t get it!”

“Go afterhours, Lou.”

“I- are you insane? I don’t have the money for it.”

“No, but you have the connections.” Again, the journalist pictures his best friend smiling. “My family has already donated enough money to that place, trust me.” She chuckles. “I’ll call them later and sort things out for you.”

“You’d do that?”

“Course, you knob.” She rolls her eyes.

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Hey, please call Liam. He’s been moping that you guys haven’t talked in a while, it’s very disturbing.” Cara laughs.

“I will, love. Thank you so, so much.” Louis says. “Really.”

“I’ll email you the details later. Bye, Lou.”

“Bye!”

With _that_ sorted, Louis decides it’s time to come out of hiding and actually check on other people’s work. Still very sleepy and a tiny bit grumpy since he can’t go home before eight p.m., he can say that he feels at least a little bit lighter, and texts his _boyfriend_ that he’s finally settled on a place for their date.

**_Can’t wait!_** Harry says. Yeah. Louis can’t either.

 

 

-

 

 

“Good morning.” Harry says in Louis’ ear. “It’s seven o’clock, go back to sleep.” He whispers and Louis mumbles something very incoherent, adjusting his body on the bed so his back is correctly placed against Harry’s front.

When he wakes up for real, an hour and a half later, Harry’s still there, hugging him from behind and breathing softly onto his neck. Even though he’s completely still, he knows the actor is awake. Harry can never really go back to sleep after he’s woken up.

“My boyfriend’s back”, Louis mumbles, intertwining their fingers, resting both their hands on his stomach again.

“Hi.” Harry says and Louis feels rather than sees his smile, right before Harry leans in and kisses his cheek warmly. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too”, Louis says and lies flat on his back. “Hi, angel.”

“You calling me angel now?” His boyfriend smiles and leans down to peck his lips.

“You look like one”, he offers, running his hand through Harry’s soft hair. “My only angel.” He smiles. “God, I really missed you.” He hugs him, pulling Harry down on top of him.

“I noticed. You’re wearing my shirt.”

“Shut it”, the journalist smiles as he slaps Harry’s shoulder lightly. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Lou. So much.” Harry says and then kisses him properly, tongue and all.

Louis gets comfortable and places a soft hand on Harry’s nape, following the kiss wherever the actor wants to take it, letting it be deep and languid and heartwarming. He can’t believe it took him so long to get here. He’s so, so glad he did.

“I’m so excited for our date.” Harry says to his mouth, giving it another peck.

“Me too. I’m stressing over what I’m going to wear.”

“Is it going to be a fancy thing?”

“Not really…” The journalist tells him. “Just- I just want to look nice.”

“One, you always look nice”, Harry says, “two… I thought you didn’t dress up for men? What was it- oh yes! _The day I dress up for a man is the day they dress me up to meet Jesus, Harold._ ” Harry says in a poor imitation of his voice.

“OH MY GOD, you remember that!” Louis face-palms. “I can’t believe you remember that, it’s been so long.”

“It was the day of your first date with Ashton. I was insanely jealous of that. Of course I remember. I remember most things about you.” The actor says in earnest.

“You’re perfect…” Louis muses. “I’m- sorry about that. All the turns we took and everything. But I think it was necessary, yeah? We needed to do some growing up.”

“Yeah. _I_ sure did.”

“We both did.” He emphasizes. “And anyways, back to our conversation about my clothes… I never used to dress up for men, no. But you’re not just any man, are you?”

“I’m not?”

“No, H.”

“What am I then? The man of your life?” Harry mocks and Louis closes his eyes. “ _Am I?_ ” He laughs and hides his face in the crook of Louis’ neck. “Please, say it out loud.”

“I hate you”, Louis complains. He can feel his cheeks reddening. “Yes, Harry Styles. I believe you are the man of my life. Happy now?” He asks only pretending to be annoyed.

Harry backs away for a bit and only stares at him, and Louis is, once again, lost in the beauty of his eyes. People often speak of the _color_ of eyes, as if that were of importance, yet Harry’s would be beautiful in any shade, for they are intense, and honest, and _gentle_. In his endeavors as a writer, Louis has wondered if maybe that’s where the word _gentleman_ comes from; not one of weakness or politeness, but one of great spirit and noble ways.

What Harry is, what is _beautiful_ about him, comes from deep within; and Louis believes that as each year passes, the lines of loveliness will deepen upon his face, and he will be more handsome still, as if his soul will learn how to shine through his skin.

“You have no idea”, Harry murmurs, pulling Louis out of his trance. “You have _no idea_ of how happy I am now.”

“Oh. But I think I do.” Louis whispers back. He does. He really does.

The day goes by like any other. Except for the fact that they make out before getting out of bed again, and they make out once more while Harry cooks them breakfast. When they sit in front of the TV, there’s no space between them, and when Harry skypes his mom, Louis talks to her too, making a mental note to call his own mother sometime in the next few days.

They talk a lot, and that hasn’t changed. For all that is their relationship now, they’re still each other’s best friends. Louis updates him on his job and says that the Beckhams invited him back for a smaller dinner, and Harry tells Louis about work and about _Maine_ , a place where there’s absolutely _nothing_ , but would be perfect for them to visit next winter.

The fact that Harry’s talking about plans for the _end of this year_ makes Louis all giddy inside, and reassures him that this isn’t, in any aspect, a fling. They’re together for real. Come what may.

 

-

 

Louis tells Harry to shower around four p.m., knowing that they need to be at the observatory by seven and being completely aware that the LA traffic is horrible at this time on a Friday. He can’t believe how many stars have aligned for them to do this today – see what he did there? He managed to get a day off on the same day Harry did, Cara got the observatory to close their doors earlier tonight _and_ Louis managed to prepare them a picnic the night before, even exhausted the way he was.

For all he was saying,  Harry’s just as freaked out as Louis about what he needs to wear, and, in the end, as the great boyfriend he is, Louis picks something for him – white, tight jeans, a red, silk shirt and his worn out boots. Harry looks edible, and fuck it if Louis doesn’t want to ravish him later.

He isn’t much different, except his jeans are black, he’s wearing signature vans and a navy blue button down; by the way Harry licks his lips when he sees him, the journalist can tell that his boyfriend wants more tonight. Which is good, amazing even. Louis has never been more ready for something in his entire life.

“Can you please put these on?” He asks Harry as they get in Harry’s _Audi_ , Louis’ rental not being good enough.

“Kinky.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” He rolls his eyes.

“When I thought of you tying me up and/or blindfolding me, it wasn’t like this, is all.” Harry jokes and Louis’ breath hitches.

“You thought of me tying you up?” He smirks.

“Yeah. And vice versa. I’m quite versatile”, he shrugs, knowing exactly what he is doing to Louis. “D’you have a preference, babe?” Harry asks as Louis knots the blindfold on the back of his head.

“You really asking me about sex now?”

“I’m optimizing our time, cause if you think I can go one more day without you naked, you’re clearly mistaken.” He points out and Louis laughs _loudly_.

“You have no boundaries, do you?” He asks.

“Do I need to?”

“Not with me, no.” Louis says and kisses his cheek; he then buckles himself up and starts the car. “I can do both too. I’ve thought of fucking you and having you fuck me; there’s no _bad_ scenario for us…”

“I’m relieved.” Harry tries to joke, but Louis still hears the truth in his voice.

“Hazz…” Louis calls him. “Whatever we do, we’ll do it because it feels right, okay?” He says as he places a hand on the other man’s thigh.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” The actor replies and grabs his hand.

 

-

 

There might be many ways to describe Harry’s reaction when he notices where they are; the words might exist. Actually, Louis is pretty sure they do. But as he parks in front of the observatory and helps Harry get out of the car, taking his blindfold off, everything vanishes from Louis’ mind.

“I- h-how?” He asks.

“I know people who know people.” Is all Louis gives him. “C’mon, angel. We have the entire planetarium to ourselves.” Louis says as he grabs Harry’s hand, using his other one to carry their food basket.

“ _To ourselves?_ ” Harry squeaks and Louis chuckles.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. My. God.” He whispers looking around, and the journalist is endeared.

A nice man takes the basket from Louis’ hand and says he’ll place it at a special spot, while a very well dressed woman starts the tour with them. They’re both kind of nerdy, and it turns out to be perfect as she tells them the _history_ of everything in there.

They don’t even pretend. They hold hands throughout the whole thing, very much aware that the woman has recognized Harry, but also counting on the fact that she won’t say anything, given the fact that they’re here for a _private_ date.

Her name is Leslie, and she tells them to look through the telescopes, and take as long as they want. As if there’s a silent agreement, they spend at least five minutes looking through the lenses, asking questions in a lower tone, afraid that they’ll disturb the cosmos if they speak any louder.

“Colonel J. Griffith left funds in his will to build a public observatory in LA because he believed in the transformative power of observation…” Leslie tells them. “After looking through the research telescope at Mt. Wilson, he said that if all mankind could look through that telescope, it would change the world.”

“I think he was right.” Harry agrees with her. “This immensity makes one wonder.”

“Puts things in perspective, for sure.” Louis completes.

“Sometimes perspective is all someone needs.” Leslie offers. It’s true.

They finish the tour not too long after, and she leads them to an oval room, where their picnic is placed; Louis kind of already knew how it was going to be, but he wasn’t expecting things to be this gorgeous in such a large scale. The room is dark, the only lights coming from the stars.

The room is all covered in screens, form the floor to the ceiling and it’s like they’re walking on the moon, staring at far away stars in different galaxies. In the center of the room there’s a blanket, their food, and a bottle of red wine. Harry’s skin is illuminated by the silver of the universe, and Louis knows he’s never going to fall for anybody else.

Harry thanks him again, as if it is needed, and then they sit down to eat, as close as possible. They talk about mundane things and deep ones; Louis wonders how many people can be this happy with each other, and he wonders if they savor it as much as they are.

After finishing the bottle of wine, Harry lies on his back and pulls Louis with him. The journalist goes promptly, and claims his place on Harry’s chest, feeling its rising and falling as he breathes.

“Lou, do you believe in miracles?” Harry asks, running his fingers through his hair.

“I think so. Why?”

“I never did. I remember watching Doctor Who a while ago, and he’d say that the universe is big, it’s vast, and complicated…”

“And ridiculous.” Louis remembers.

“Yeah. And that very rarely some impossible things just happen, and people call them miracles. And that’s the theory.”

“But The Doctor says he’s never seen one.” He speaks.

“Yeah, exactly. Me neither. Or, well, I hadn’t. Till now.”

“Huh?”

“Us. You.” Harry explains, tightening his arms around Louis. “I think you’re my miracle.”

“Harry.”

“I was so lost. So, so lost when we met.” He tells him. “You brought me back from the edge, Lou. I think that’s why I was so scared and so hurt when I thought we would never be together. You’re like- well. You say I’m your angel, but- _you’re mine_. You brought me back from the demons that took control of my head. I’m back to the start, now. Back to my heart.” He sighs. “Back to the boy who would reach for the stars.” He finishes speaking.

He finishes speaking and Louis is crying, because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel the same.

“Harry Styles.” He sighs and looks at him. “I will love you like the sky loves the birds. With open hands, and infinite freedom. And there won’t be a day that I won’t remind you of that.” Louis whispers to his mouth, getting closer, closer. “You’re the man of my life after all, aren’t you?”

“And you’re mine. You’re _mine_.”

“You have me. Until every star in the galaxy dies. You have me.”

 

-

 

When they stumble into Harry’s room, it’s really just a natural progression. There are no nerves, there’s no awkwardness. Nothing. Like they were always meant to do this, Harry presses Louis’ body into the wall, and kisses him like he’s tasting the finest of delicacies, and, in a way, it is.

Harry just can’t believe this is actually happening, even though they’ve been doing this for a few days now. It’s just one of those things that he’s been picturing for so long that now that it’s actually happening, there are way too many things the actor needs to coordinate.

He needs to make sure to keep himself in check and not come from only a few heated kisses, he needs to make this good for Louis and himself, and he needs to commit this night to memory, because even if he hopes – _knows_ – that there are many more like this one to come, it’s still the first time they’re going to sleep with each other. It’s the first time he’s kissing Louis with this kind of intent and it’s the first time Louis is letting him, becoming completely pliant, at Harry’s mercy.

He never thought that he’d see the journalist lose it like this, but once Harry starts unbuttoning his shirt and drags his mouth from his throat to his collarbones, Louis whines, and holds onto Harry’s biceps as if they’re a lifeline. Harry just wants everything, and he works to get it.

He kisses Louis on the mouth after a while again, and Louis pulls him closer by the hips, joining their crotches and showing Harry just how interested he is.

“Want you so much”, Harry says, breath already labored and presses his body on the other man just as Louis works on his own buttons, taking his shirt off once and for all.

All this skin. Harry has, _wants_ all this skin.

“Fuck, Louis”, they kiss again, and this time Louis works on Harry’s shirt, but always gets sidetracked by his hair. It’s just a thing for them, and now more than ever Harry appreciates it. He risks a bite on the side of Louis’ neck and the journalist closes his hand around Harry’s strands, eliciting yet another groan from the actor.

“So good, Hazz, fuck”, Louis whispers in his ear, “so good you make me weak in my knees”, he tells him. Harry shivers at his every word, and pulls him closer by his ass now, both of his hands full of Louis – _heaven_. “Take me to bed, please.” He asks and Harry doesn’t need to be told twice.

They walk together towards Harry’s king size, but Louis stops him before they climb it. He turns Harry around and kisses his back, tongues his skin and whispers it is his turn to taste the actor, biting the meatiest parts as his hands roam Harry’s chest till they find his – very sensitive – nipples.

Louis kisses the back of Harry’s neck wetly as he rolls Harry’s nipples between his fingers, making them hard and perky and just right; Harry lets his head fall forwards, and starts working on his tight jeans, doing his best to take them off without moving much as Louis continues his ministrations.

Once he manages it, one of his hands goes instantly to his bulge, dick already way too hard tenting his boxers, but Louis bats his hand from there and with no ceremony puts one of his own inside Harry’s pants.

“Shit”, they both say at the same time.

“Feels so heavy, baby”, Louis whispers in his ear, “can’t wait to have you inside me”, he says as he wanks Harry.

The idea of fucking Louis is what makes _Harry’s_ knees weaken, and he uses the bed for support as his entire body curves with Louis’ hands working him up more and more, squeezing at the tip of his cock and scratching his chest.

“Lou”, Harry moans and doesn’t recognize his own voice. He didn’t know it could get this low.

Louis responds by taking Harry’s pants off, and when Harry turns around, to kiss him again, the journalist’s on his knees.

“Ever since we met I’ve dreamed of having your cock in my mouth”, Louis says, placing both hands on the back of Harry’s thighs. Harry doesn’t even know what sound he makes when Louis asks, in the most innocent of voices: “fuck my mouth, Harry Styles”.

“You’re gonna kill me”, Harry says, but grabs him by his hair, leading Louis to his cock upon request.

The feeling of Louis’ lips around him is indescribable. Harry holds him still for a second and lets him have his fun – still trying to keep himself at bay. And Louis is good – shit, is Louis good! Not that he had any doubts, but to actually have him suckling his head and circling his tongue around it as he bats his eyelashes and moans just at the feeling of Harry on his tongue is something that doesn’t even come close to what Harry’s imagined.

It’s better. Fuck, it’s so much better. Harry closes his eyes after a few minutes, because he gets too overwhelmed as Louis wanks him in time with his own mouth, moving his head unstoppably up and down on Harry’s shaft and moaning in pleasure, every now and then fondling with Harry’s balls and making the actor see stars brighter than the ones they saw at the observatory.

When Louis stops, Harry doesn’t really understand, but then he looks down and there he is, staring at him with both hands behind his back, mouth still hanging open, still waiting for Harry to do what he asked him to in the first place.

So Harry fucks his throat. Oh, yes, he does. He holds Louis’ hair strongly and moves his hips mercilessly, not stopping for anything, not even for the wonderful gagging sounds Louis is making. The journalist eventually places one hand on his own bulge, cock still restricted by his pants and jeans, and despite this being incredible, Harry wants tonight to last – and to be more than a blowjob by the side of his bed. Louis did say he wanted to have Harry inside of him tonight, and only his mouth won’t do it.

“Up, Lou, c’mon”, Harry says as he removes his cock from the journalist’s mouth. “You’re- you’re perfect, baby”, he says, just to make sure that Louis _knows_ it.

Louis smiles and places a quick kiss on Harry’s lips, throwing himself on the bed right after, ass in the air.

“’S your time to undress me… _Baby”_ , he says and wiggles his bum. Harry doesn’t know whether to laugh fondly or lose his mind over Louis’ absolutely _wrecked_ voice.

Both happen anyways, and then Harry’s on the bed, unbuttoning Louis’ jeans and taking them off alongside his pants, telling Louis’ to hold on as his trousers get stuck on his ankles.

After he manages it, he stops and stares, because Louis is worth staring; Harry would even say he should be in a museum, but then again the actor would be too jealous to let it happen. No, he wants Louis always like this: to himself. It’s okay with Harry for the journalist to share his light with the world – after all, everyone should get to have Louis Tomlinson in their lives, Harry’s not _that_ mean. But his body, his moans- his shivers, no. Those are for Harry’s eyes only.

“I love you”, he says as he covers Louis’ body with his own. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone”, he whispers and Louis turns his head, catching Harry’s lips in his and licking inside his mouth, making Harry rut against him.

He’s already leaking and he knows it, but there’s no way _not to_ when his dick’s rubbing on Louis’ asscheeks.

Harry kisses his mouth, then his cheek, then his neck. Licks all the way to his shoulder blades and absolutely _has to_ trail wet kisses down his back, hands barely holding up his body with how much he’s shuddering. He never thought giving someone pleasure would make _him_ feel this way, but every time Louis so much breathes differently Harry feels like he’s won an Oscar. (He never really got one, but he imagines the feeling would compare.)

“Hazz, c’mon”, Louis asks, getting impatient. Honestly, Harry is too.

He blindly searches for the lube on the bedside table, and loses a bet he made with himself. Part of him _swore_ Louis would tease him for being such a cliché, and he was ready to tell him that the only reason lube _and_ condoms are there is because he knew they’d end up here tonight, but he doesn’t really care that he doesn’t get to say it, not when he comes back and Louis has spread out his own legs and is holding his asscheeks apart, cock barely touching the mattress. How the fuck he manages it is beyond Harry’s understanding. But he loves it. Revels in it.

Before he can think, though, his mouth is already there and Louis is screaming in surprise. He’ll fuck Louis, he will, but he won’t be taking any shortcuts to get there, not when he gets to do this _too_. Seeing that Louis is going to lose it anytime soon, Harry holds Louis’ ass by himself, and instead of licking around his rim, he buries his face in the other man’s butt just so he can eat him out better.

Harry gives small bites around Louis’ rim and then gives his hole a wet kiss, circling it with his tongue and pointing it till it breaks the muscle.

“Oh my God”, Louis pants, “holy fuck, oh my- _oh Harry_ ”, he cries out as Harry fucks him with his tongue, promptly placing one finger beside it, already working on opening him up.

“You taste so good”, Harry tells him, blowing hot air on his rim, coating yet another finger with lube. “You taste good, smell good, you- I bet you feel _amazing_ ”, he whispers.

“Get on with it then”, he asks, snappy as ever.

“You eager, Lou?” Harry asks then kisses his rim again, pumping two fingers inside of him and not hitting his prostate on purpose. If Louis is as close as Harry himself is, and the actor thinks he is, he’ll come on the spot if Harry stimulates him.

“Yes, _yes I- uh-oooh I am_ ”, he swears, “c’mon, H, I’m ready, stop- _ah_ playing-” in a particular hard thrust of Harry’s fingers, Louis buries his face in the pillow, “can’t wait to have you split me open, you gon’ love that, won’t ya?” He smirks.

“Yes, yes I will.” Harry assures him and takes his fingers out, looking for the condom and opening the foil with his teeth. As he does it, Louis turns around and sits on the bed.

His hair is a mess and he is sweating, his dick is heavy, an angry red and Louis plays with it squeezing the base, starving off his orgasm.

“How’d you want this?” Harry asks as he rolls the condom on his shaft, giving himself a few quick tugs too.

“Lie down”, Louis asks. “Gonna ride you, if that’s okay.” He says.

“More than”, he chuckles and does as told. Louis follows his suit and covers his body with his own, kissing Harry passionately for a long while, but when he gets up, he stands on the bed and turns around, straddling Harry’s body and lowering himself on the  actor’s stomach.

Holy shit, he’s going for reverse cow girl position, Harry can’t _believe_ this is happening to him. He honestly can’t. The actor places both hands on his face and scrubs his eyes, just trying to understand the idea that this man – the most gorgeous man he has ever laid eyes on – is about to ride him. Harry loves Louis. He loves Louis _fiercely._

And now he’s got him.

Louis throws a glance over his shoulder with a side smile, and then asks Harry to guide his own dick into Louis’ hole as he finishes lowering himself. Harry stays still, letting Louis get used to it and set his own pace, but as he feels his head break into Louis’ rim, he loses all sense of control and grabs Louis’ hips with both hands, pretty sure that he’ll leave bruises for later (he’s counting on it).

The journalist sits on him and gets comfortable, places both hands on Harry’s thighs and starts moving. At first it’s just figure eight, a slow, tantalizing pace that is driving Harry mad. He gives Louis a soft slap on the ass and with his other hand he scratches up Louis’ back, making him whimper and fasten the pace on Harry’s dick.

That’s a big and great difference between them: Harry moans and groans loudly. But Louis gives him tiny whimpers in return, a few uncontrolled whines, as if he’s too overwhelmed to do anything else.

Once he’s comfortable with Harry inside of him, Louis starts to really ride the actor like a champ. He grabs both of Harry’s hands and guides them both to his hips again.

“Mark me away, love- I like it rough”, he says, “just don’t let me fall.” Louis jokes, but then starts.

For more minutes Harry thought was humanly possible, Louis rides him without ever losing momentum, sliding up and down Harry’s cock as a professional would on a pole dancing pole. Harry tries to hold off his orgasm, but as Louis goes faster and faster, breathing hard and loud, the actor squeezes his hand on the other man’s hips and holds him still.

Harry then plants both feet on the mattress and starts thrusting up. Louis only moves slightly, meeting Harry’s thrusts.

“C’mon, H- come for me”, Louis asks. “ _Please, come for me_ ”, he pleads. And fuck it if Harry doesn’t do exactly that.

He speeds up and pulls Louis back, making him lie on his chest. Louis fits his head by Harry’s own on the pillow, and Harry bites the side of his neck as he thrusts mercilessly into Louis, taking no pity on him and wanking him at the same time.

Now Louis loses it, he loses it and it’s _beautiful_. He becomes louder than ever and squirms on top of Harry, and as his rim contracts around the actor’s dick, Harry comes not being able to hold it in anymore, shooting his load inside the condom, _inside Louis_.

“So good, so perfect”, Harry whispers, “c’mon Lou, let go too, come, baby.” He asks. _He simply asks_ , and squeezes Louis’ dickhead in his hand, and the journalist follows suit, mouth agape without emitting any kind of sound.

Harry shakes, Louis trembles, and they’re both in paradise.

“I think you broke me”, Louis whispers by his side, chest still rising and falling in a fast pace. Harry laughs. “Seriously, I think-” he takes a deep breath, “I think your dick changed something fundamental in me, and I’m never ever gonna be able to sleep with anyone else.” He smiles.

“Well, that’s good then”, Harry turns on his side. “I don’t ever want you to sleep with anyone else.”

“You really want me, don’t you?” He asks, and for the first time Harry sees wonder in his eyes.

“I… I do.”

“Jesus”, the journalist shivers all over and presses his lips to Harry’s. “For the longest time I talked myself out of falling for you, because there was _no way_ you’d want something serious with me.”

“Louis.”

“I’m serious, H. Not because I thought you were a bad person, but because I’ve always thought you were too good.” Louis pecks his lips again. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m really, really not. But I love you. I love you _a lot_ , okay?”

“Yeah, that’s all right…” He muses. “I love you too.”

“You’d better.” Harry jokes and pulls him in. Louis rests his head on his chest, and they’re out like a light.

 

-

 

Harry wakes up to his phone ringing incessantly on the bedside table, and he groans when he checks it’s Gemma’s number, because he knows it isn’t his sister, Gemma has more consideration for time zones; this is probably Niall, calling from his sister’s phone trying to convince Harry it _is_ his sister herself, just so he won’t ignore the call. The actor has already learned everything there is to know about his PA.

The phone rings again and Harry decides to pick it up before the ringing wakes Louis up. Being who he is, Harry can’t, unfortunately, put it in silent mode.

“What?” Harry asks, sitting up on the bed, his back to a peacefully asleep Louis.

_“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”_

“It’s seven am here, Niall.”

_“Oh. Well. Did you go out with Louis last night?”_

“I’m okay, thanks for asking, how are you?”

_“Harry, this is serious.”_ Gemma says in the background. _“Hi, baby brother, you’re on speaker. Did you go out with Louis last night?”_

“Yes. We- uh- we went on a date.”

_“GET IN, HARRY STYLES!.”_ She screams excitedly.

_“Yeah, in, as in:_ not _outside”_ , Niall complains and Harry can hear his sister slapping him slightly. _“You were spotted, and now people are wondering what the fuck you were doing with your ex’s gay best friend.”_ When Harry doesn’t reply, Niall huffs impatiently on the other line. _“Out of all the men in the world, you had to go and fall for your beard’s best friend and now you’re fucking hanging out with him in public. How d’you think that shit is going to look like, Harry?”_

“Uh- exactly what it is?”

_“Listen-”_

“No, Ni, _you_ listen. I’m _not_ going to keep Louis hidden as a dirty little secret.” The actor _tells_ him.

_“What does that even mean?”_

“What I just said!” He replies exasperatedly.

_“I’ll schedule a meeting for later today.”_ Niall tells sim resignedly. _“You’d better pick up the first time I call.”_

“Yes, sir.” Harry chuckles. Then thinks. “Niall?”

_“Yeah?”_

“You’re on my side, right? You’re not going to turn on me during the meeting, are you?”

_“There are no sides here, Harry, no matter how much you still seem to think there are. Get it through your thick skull that all we’re doing is in your best interest.”_

“My career’s best interest, you mean.”

_“Aren’t they one and the same at this point?”_ The Irishman asks.

“I- I guess so.”

_“So man up, champ. That man’s gon’ be trouble, so we’re gonna have to work out a deal, but it’ll all be okay, yeah?”_

And. Harry doesn’t know. He _really_ doesn’t know if things are going to turn out okay, not when he can feel he’s about to become a womanizer again. But he takes a breath. First in, then out. He counts to ten. Then he looks at Louis, who is still very much asleep, his skin glowing under the sunlight coming in through the curtains, and his heart skips a beat.

“Y-yeah, yeah okay.” He exhales.

Harry hangs up the phone and lies down again, scooting even closer to Louis just so he can kiss his naked, warm back.

Trouble never looked – and tasted – so goddamn fine. (And worth it.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love, as always <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there! Sorry it took me so long. Finals consumed me, but now I AM FINALLY FREE, so here you go:

 

        All in all, the meeting isn’t so bad.

It might be because Harry wakes up by Louis’ side and gets to watch him breathing peacefully for at least fifteen minutes, or that as soon as the other man wakes up they have sex again, but Harry’s in a really good mood when Niall texts him to go online on Skype.

Lazily, Harry detangles himself from his boyfriend, and Louis complains with the cutest of sounds. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen him act so loving, and for a flash of a moment he thinks that this is what he loves the most in the world, this is what he wants to have for the rest of his life. Everything else is a little bit less important when compared to Louis.

“It won’t take long”, Harry says as he kisses Louis’ temple.

“It just feels so weird. Like, we literally just got together and you have to have a meeting about it.” The journalist all but rolls his eyes. “It’s such a good morning, we could be going to the beach right now.” He whines.

“We can still go to the beach,” Harry smiles. “Just maybe… After lunch? And we can watch the sunset. It’s gonna be romantic…” The actor singsongs the last sentence.

“Are you trying to take me on a date, Styles?”

“I might be.” Harry muses. “Okay, I really have to go downstairs now… _Don’t_ come into the office or I swear to God…”

“I won’t.” Louis chuckles. “Gonna enjoy this amazing bed some more.” He smiles at Harry. And the actor only kisses him again because he _can’t_ resist.

Harry checks his hair in the mirror in the bathroom and brushes his teeth before making his way to the office. Getting there, he sits at the table and opens the laptop mechanically. He’s lost count of how many times he’s done that, and if he’s being honest this isn’t even the worst of them, because he kind of already knows what to expect.

For one, he’s fairly aware that Simon will be on the other side of the screen. It’s a given, really, Harry Styles is, after all, in a serious relationship with a man for the first time since he signed with his management.

It isn’t like Harry’s never had relationships before; they usually just didn’t matter much, weren’t sufficiently important for any of them to care. Harry’s “boyfriends” never came out of hiding and never met his family and just- everything now is different. _Harry_ is different.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles, I see your tardiness hasn’t changed.” Simon says as soon as the actor accepts the call. It takes him enormous effort not to roll his eyes to the back of his head.

“It’s eight in the morning here.” He states. “Good afternoon.” Harry then forces a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

“We hear you have a boyfriend.” Simon tells him. “And we hear your boyfriend is your beard’s best friend.”

“Hm…”           

“Do we hear correctly or do we have hearing problems is what I want to know.”

“I think your ears are perfectly fine.” Harry smirks. “Just- _former_ beard. But yes. And he’s sleeping upstairs at the moment, so if we could just speed this up so I can go back to him, I’d be extremely happy.”

“You’re going to sit there for as long as I need you to sit there, Styles.” Simon replies sternly, cutting off his cheekiness. “Now, here’s what we know about Louis Tomlinson…” He opens a file. “Sports journalist in his mid-twenties, best friends with Cara Delevingne, considered a Celebrity Whisperer because he’s famous amongst them. His father is in jail for orchestrating a Ponzi scheme and they are rarely in contact. His mother is back to working as a lawyer after losing everything years ago and his sisters are all in school. Anything more we should know?”

Niall and Michael are there, but neither of them has said a word yet. They barely whispered good morning when the call started. But they’re there. And because they are there Harry takes a deep breath and reunites all the courage and strength that he needs to formulate the next few sentences.

“Many things.” He responds to Simon. “Here’s a few: Louis Tomlinson, sports journalist, mid-twenties… Blue eyes like the sea, wavy, caramel hair and curvy, amazing body. Considered a _Celebrity Whisperer_ because everyone loves him; there’s _no way_ a person can meet Louis and _not_ love him, because he’s just that amazing. Absolutely loves beer and pizza and hates Nick Grimshaw-” Harry chuckles amusedly. “Has been through a fucking lot with his family and never once stopped supporting them; cut ties with his father after what he did to them, and still finds strength inside to try and get past it, no matter how much it destroys him sometimes. His family is just as amazing as he is, and I cannot _wait_ to meet them.” He takes another deep breath. “Louis was born on the twenty-fourth of December and some people joke around saying that he is a Christmas miracle, but honestly… I’m starting to believe he is _my_ miracle. He has the biggest heart out of anyone I have ever or will ever encounter, and he loves _me_ , out of the entire world. So, will you fucking please speak of him with a little bit more respect so we can continue this conversation like normal people would?”

“All right, then…” Niall smiles and clasps his hands.

Harry’s out of breath. Well.

“What you don’t seem to understand, Styles, is that this is a breach of contract-” Simon starts.

“Actually”, Niall interrupts him. “It isn’t. The contract says Harry can’t come out. Not that he can’t have a relationship.”

“I’d actually like to talk about coming out.” Harry says. “In the future, that is. For now I’m all right doing whatever you want me to do post-Cara, as long as I don’t have to get into another fake relationship.”

“No, we’re not thinking in terms of relationships…” Michael tells him. “We just want you to go back to your old image for a while.”

“Cause that’s so much better…” Harry smiles weakly, making a bit of drama, already knowing this is the best deal he’s going to get. “So, what are you thinking?”

“You go out once a week, after work.” Simon says. “Some very exclusive, very _straight_ club, your pick; you’ll let Niall know and Michael will call the paps.”

“Can I take Louis to the club?”

“Obviously not.” Simon snorts.

“Uh- actually.” Michael starts. “It’s a good idea if he goes; Harry will be surrounded by women again, so it can look like they’re just bros going out and getting the girls.”

“Because no one will find it weird that Cara’s very gay best friend is hanging out with her ex.” Simon retorts. 

“It _was_ a friendly break up.” Harry defends. “We were all always together anyways.”

“Doesn’t matter. No one’s gonna believe that boy is straight.” The boss speaks up.

“They don’t have to.” Niall shrugs. “There’s more in the spectrum than gay or straight. Louis could be pan, bi, demi- a bunch of things.”

“But he’s _not_.” Harry answers.

“Harry, he won’t be stating anything, just implying. It’s better than not taking him anywhere. And it’ll be his choice, anyways. No one’s going to force Louis to do anything. This- this whole closet thing, you’ll have to work out between yourselves.” His sister’s boyfriend explains to him.

Harry doesn’t love it, but then again, if Simon agrees, he’ll be able to even go out clubbing with Louis right under the press’s nose. And Harry _knows_ his fans will know. They know everything. Some of them knew _before_ Harry did that he was in love with that man just by the way Harry looked at him in pictures.

It won’t be different now. Or at least… It doesn’t have to be. Harry will go out with him and a bunch of girls, and he’s a hundred percent convinced that no matter how many women are surrounding them, they’ll only have eyes for each other anyways.

“-And we have to introduce him as part of Harry’s life somehow. I mean- sans Cara.” Michael speaks and Harry focuses back on the screen. “Harry seems to be very serious about  Louis.”

“I am.”

“So, at some point, if his coming out is something that is going to happen-”

“It has to be.”

_“Let me finish.”_ Michael complains. “If his coming out is something that is going to happen, then we’ll have to have plausible deniability for everything else. This is a good thing, Simon.”

The manager grunts and says some other things that Harry doesn’t focus on because he’s too busy trying not to smile too hard, and then they’re done. Niall even winks at the end, and says he’s going to call him later. Harry also thanks Michael under his breath and then bids Simon goodbye.

He replies to a few emails and even checks his filming schedule for the week, and then smiles at himself, deciding he’ll make breakfast and take it to bed.

When Harry gets to his bedroom, Louis is not sleeping, as he expected him to be. Instead, his boyfriend is pacing from one side to the other, looking completely mad and already fully clothed.

The actor closes the door behind him and places the tray of food on his bedside table, staring at Louis wide-eyed.

“Babe, what happened-”

“Are they going to make you break up with me?”  Louis asks. “Because if so, just tell me right away, Harry. I don’t think I can-”

“What are you talking about?” Harry tries, he really does, but he ends up laughing when he holds Louis by both arms. “Hey. Wake up. Are you having a nightmare?” He jokes, then presses his lips firmly on Louis’s. “Baby.” He pulls him in and hugs him right.

“How was the meeting, Harry?” Louis asks in his chest.

“It was good.” He whispers. “Not perfect, but as good as it could be. I promise.”

“And you won’t break up with me?” His boyfriend asks again, face still buried in Harry’s shirt.

“You know how long I’ve been in love with you, Lou. And how long it took us to get here. No, baby, I am _not_ breaking up with you; ever, okay?” He takes Louis’ face between his hands and Louis blinks up at him; his eyes are watery and his cheeks are flushed and there’s nothing to do but to kiss him.

Harry starts out softly, touching Louis’ lips with his own applying little to no pressure, waiting for his boyfriend to respond; and he does. Louis presses closer and with a whimper intertwines his fingers with Harry’s hair, tilting his head and allowing Harry’s tongue to enter his mouth so they can kiss properly for the first time today.

It still is every bit as mesmerizing as last night. And before last night and the very first time they kissed ages ago. Harry still feels the same shiver and his toes still curl at the touch of this man and he wishes, _oh he wishes_ that it never fades. He knows it’s still new, and he knows it’s still their honeymoon phase, but for the life of him, Harry can’t imagine the day when this won’t feel this good.

He walks Louis back to the bed and the journalist falls pliantly on the mattress, pulling Harry by the neck so he’s on top of him. Harry kisses him some more, because now he can. They exchange languid kisses, strong kisses, tantalizing kisses. Harry kisses his mouth and then trails down to his neck, feeling rewarded each time Louis rolls his hips up, trying to get some friction on his dick.

“I love you”, Harry whispers in his ear. “I love you. I love you.”

“And I love you too.” Louis says. “I love you so much.” He closes his eyes and Harry kisses his forehead. “But I’m so scared, H.”

“I told you I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

“Okay, but there are… Other things.” Louis says and Harry fits himself between his legs, dropping his weight on Louis’ body. He quickly thinks this is the best way for them to have a conversation. “Like, how are you going to deal with the closet thing? It’s a thing, right? I mean, you’re… Straight.” His face crumbles when he says the word. Harry thinks his own isn’t much different when he hears it.

“Yes, it’s a thing. It’s going to be a thing for a while. A short one, I hope, but.”

“How much time are we talking here?” Louis asks as one of his hands travels down Harry’s spine, stopping right above his ass. “Babe?” He squeezes Harry’s hip. It’s one of his favorite places on Harry’s body, and he’s said it countless times, even before they became a couple.

“A year, maybe. This contract needs to end so another can start.”

“And when does this end?”

“Middle of the year. But then there’s a coming out plan and all that… You know how this is, Louis.”

“Yes, but I’ve never been in the middle of it.” He whines, then pecks Harry’s mouth. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, H, I’m just-”

“I get it, I do.” Harry nods, kisses him again. “ _You’re_ out, and I’m not.”

“I don’t need you to parade me around and kiss me in public, all right?” He smiles. “But they’re insane if they think they make me act as your dirty little secret. I know that after everything I put you through I can’t ask for much, but this is not negotiable. I’m not about to take back entrances or anything like that- unless they’re… _Your_ back entrance.” He jokes.   

“Oh My God, you’re so ridiculous.” The actor huffs out another laugh and then kisses him. “First of all, the most important thing: _my_ back entrance is always, and by always I mean _always_ available for you. Secondly-” Harry laughs loudly, because Louis tackles him on this back, screaming that his boyfriend is terrible. “ _Secondly_ , we’ve all reached an agreement. And if you’re all right with it, we have a lot of clubbing to do in the next couple of months.”

“ _We?_ ” He asks.

“We.”

“Harry Styles… What kind of deal did you cut us?” Louis asks.

“I’ll tell you while we eat, kay?”

“Yes, please, food, yes.” His boyfriend smiles and sits up, clapping his hands like a little kid. Harry loves him.

They eat and they talk. At times they do both at the same time and it gets disgusting, so they laugh too. Harry explains everything to Louis, and he acts much like the actor did. He’s not the happiest, but even he has to admit that it’s the best deal they could get out of this, and that Simon is definitely less happy than they are – which is always a plus, if you ask Harry’s opinion.

After they’re done with breakfast, Harry suggests going to town and walking around. _We could even get ice cream_ , he says excitedly and knows Louis will agree with it. He does.

So they go out. They do the dishes, get dressed, and exit the house together. They don’t walk hand in hand and they don’t kiss in public, but they’re still as affectionate as two people can be without really touching. _It’s how I look at you, and how you look at me. That’s what matters_ , Louis tells him when they pass by a group of tourists that stares at them long enough that Harry waves. He stops for pictures and the Australians thank him. They keep walking, and Harry asks Louis to keep talking.

“It’s just- I’m a very tactile person.” The journalist explains. “And it should bother me more than it does, the fact that we can’t touch _all the time_. But- you look at me like I’m everything, Harry. And that used to scare the shit outta me, but now it just- it makes me the happiest person in the bloody universe to know that. Because everyone else knows it too. Just like they know that you’re my fucking world now.”

“I am?”

“You are.” Louis smiles. “C’mon, I wanna make it to the beach today.”

So they walk some more.

Harry doesn’t think he’s walked this much since his first week in Los Angeles when he wanted to explore everything on foot. But it’s so good that he doesn’t mind. Talking has never been a problem to the two of them, they can barely breathe during their conversations.

They talk more about their families, their jobs, their friends. Harry invites Louis to visit the set during the week and Louis agrees, then amends that they should really talk about visiting their families together now that they’re a couple. The fact that Louis is excited for Harry to meet his mom makes the butterflies in his stomach have fucking babies, because he swears that at some point he thought he would _never_ get this chance right here.

Some people maintain their faith through it all. Some people keep imagining great scenarios for their lives even when things don’t seem to be going their way; Harry isn’t one of those people. He isn’t sure if it makes him weak or strong, he just knows it’s the way he is. He can wonder and he can think up a perfect life until the pain is too much to bear. When it hurts, when it _really fucking hurts_ , he tends to try and forget it completely, not dwell on it.

Somewhere along the way, he felt like he lost hope. Not hope in life completely, just- hope in a life with _Louis_. And it sucked so bad at the time that he promised himself he’d never fall for someone that hard again and be so oblivious about it until it was too late to go back. Harry thought it was _horrible_ to hold on. And he thought it was even worse _to let go_.

But now, sitting on a very secluded part of the beach, with Louis and kissing his sandy hair and feeling the breeze of the early evening on their faces, Harry believes the latter was, indeed, a good option.

You see, by letting go, by stripping himself from all of his hopes and dreams, Harry opened the door for something new. For a kind of love he didn’t know existed because he had never experienced it. By letting it go a few months ago, Harry took Louis’ willingness to _be_ with him with surprise, and every small act still feels like a million dollars. More than a million dollars.

Louis rolls his head on Harry’s chest and smooths his hands on Harry’s thighs, which are on either side of his body.

“What are you thinking?” Harry asks, one hand catching Louis’s, the other firmly on the sand, supporting his body.

“That I finally got it.” He smiles lazily. “I think you might’ve noticed that I’m… Loud.”

“Just a little bit.” The actor jokes.

“Yeah… Uh- it’s just… I never wanted a quiet, sensible sort of love.” He confesses. “I wanted to be devoured.” Louis tilts his head to look at Harry. “I finally got it.” He softly kisses Harry’s jaw. “You’re so- immense, I guess. I consider what we have to be _so huge_ that the sea pales in comparison, is all. So. That’s how I know, I guess.”

Harry sits up again, making Louis move with him. Then he hugs his boyfriend.

“Put your ear against my chest and listen”, Harry asks, cradling Louis’ body in his arms. “There is an ocean inside of me. And it rages for you.”

 

-

 

It’s funny how _no one_ expects Harry Styles to be gay.

When Louis wakes up on Wednesday and decides that today is the day he’s going to go to work with Harry, he kind of imagines people already know about his boyfriend’s sexuality, but, apart from Zayn, who Louis already _knows_ , people are, in general, very shocked. Including the girl who is Harry’s romantic interested in the movie, Casey.

It’s almost funny the way her eyes sadden at the sight of them holding hands.

“Didn’t you warn anyone?” Louis whispers in Harry’s ear.

“Told them I’d bring my partner today.” Harry shrugs. “Not my fault no one considered the possibility it’d be a man.”

At that, Louis can’t help but laugh loudly, throwing his head back for better effect, which catches the other heartthrob’s attention.

“LOUIS TOMLINSON IN. THE. HOUSE.” Zayn screams from the make-up area. His hair looks weird; Louis _has_ to make fun of him.

“Did you eat enough cinnamon rolls that your hair turned into one?” He asks, walking towards him.

Harry and Zayn scoff at the same time. Holy shit, this is so attractive.

“Look who decided to be funny this morning.”

“I’m always funny.”

“Zayn, can you stop flirting with my boyfriend, please? And Louis, can you stop flirting back? I’m getting jealous over here.” Harry half-jokes, half-whines. Louis _needs_ to kiss him. So he does.

The make-up artist widens her eyes, but doesn’t say anything. Harry turns to her with a simple smile on his face.

“You okay, Meg?”

“Y-ye-yes.” She answers and Zayn snickers, turning back to the mirror.

“This is my top secret boyfriend Louis.” He says. “Lou, this is Megan.”

“Hey, love.” Louis smiles at her.

“H-hi.” She stutters again. The journalist doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t.

“So, is that a Louis Tomlinson that Harry Styles dragged in today?” A man who Louis has never met says.

“Uh, hi?” Louis kind of asks.

“Hey, boss.” The actor smiles. “Lou, this is Ben Winston, our Director. Ben… You apparently know him.”

“ _Know him?_ David fucking Beckham won’t shut up about him.” Ben says. “Hello, hello.”

“You know Beckham?” Harry frowns.

“We go way back. I’ve directed some of his documentaries when I was in the sports world...”

“You were into sports?” Harry asks surprised. “Amazing. We never really know anyone”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, I still like it. But- I love this more.” He shrugs. “Point is, when are you going to switch teams, Tomlinson?” Ben asks him, completely turning his back to Zayn and making sure Louis is looking at him.

“Switch… Teams?” He glances between his boyfriend and the director.

“You know, leave the sports, work with the big guns.”

“I don’t-”

“David says you’re one hell of a producer.”

“I’m…Not.” He replies coyly. “I’m just a researcher. I just toy with the idea of producing sometimes.”

“He’s being modest, isn’t he?” Ben turns to Harry.

“He is.” Harry smiles. Louis can see his eyes twinkling.

“I’m not.” The journalist rolls his eyes. “I’m genuinely not that interested in producing.”

“Hang around the set for a few hours and let’s talk more once this day is over.” Ben pats him on the back. “Good talk, lads. Harry, get ready, we’re filming in thirty.” And then he walks away.

“Is he crazy?” Louis frowns, looking up at Harry.

“I think he just really likes you?” Harry asks. “Which, I can understand…” He pulls him in closer by the waist and places a wet kiss to his mouth. Louis goes pliant instantly.

“Harry, I’m ready for you.” Meg calls him as Zayn gets up.

“Go get even prettier, love. I’ll be around.” Louis smiles.

Zayn shows him the rest of the set and introduces him to some people. _Some_ , because “not everyone is worth it”, the actor says. Louis chooses to believe him, knowing how disgusting this world can be. Harry doesn’t take long getting his make-up on, but then Ben steals him for a talk before they start shooting and it gives Louis and Zayn more time to talk.

The journalist ends up mentioning that he is looking for a flat – pardon, _an apartment_ – around the area for the next couple of months, and Zayn offers his own.

“You serious?” Louis asks, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve got a spare bedroom- many spare bedrooms and- don’t know, I’m not used to being alone. It’s just too big of a place, mate. I could use some company.”

“Harry’s gonna want to kill me, but this sounds brilliant.”

“I don’t live too far away from him…” Zayn trails, then squints his eyes. “Why’d you wanna move out of his house though? That doesn’t make much sense.”

“It’s weird to _live_ with your boyfriend of two weeks.”

“He’s been your friend for a year.”

“And I’ve lived with my _friend_.”

“Oh. I see.” He understands. “Well, mate, offer stands from now till you decide to actually do it. Just let me know so I’ll be home to help you move in.”

“Zayn Malik… I can’t believe I like you.” Louis laughs as he says it.

“Wait- you _didn’t_ like me? Why?”

“I might’ve been a bit jealous of you in the past.”

“In the past when you were the one being a prick about your feelings?” He questions.

“Heeeeeeeey.” The journalist interjects in a very Harry way.

“I see how it is.” Zayn jokes, Louis kind of punches his shoulder. “And now you attack me! I take it back. You cannot live with me.”

“Zaynie, _pllleeeeaaasee…_ ” Louis clings to him as he walks away.

“No.”

“I won’t even fuck Harry on the couch!”  He promises way too loudly and Casey puts a hand on her mouth. Harry’s by her side and chuckles, one hand around the girl’s shoulder.

“I know, it’s absurd, right?” He says to her, then turns to Louis. “Why won’t you fuck me on the couch? What have I _done_ to you?” Harry doesn’t even need to _fake_ outrage. Louis can see how outraged he genuinely is.

“Nothing, love. I’m just trying to convince Zayn to let me live with him.”

“What?” Harry asks.

“H…”

The actor sighs and acts weird the rest of the day. Louis lets him sulk, and responds to some emails while he’s being difficult. Mostly, Louis just watches him work. Harry’s an actor. A real-life actor. An amazing one at that.

(Few people catch Louis’ attention for long periods of time, but as Harry Styles start shooting, the set goes quiet because it has to and Louis stills. Once again, he realizes why this is the man for him. _Harry’s heart rages for Louis. Louis’ heart stops for him_. What a pair they make.)

It’s only around eight p.m. that they get to leave. Today’s been one of the hard days, the long ones, and Louis can see that, at the end of it, Harry’s much more stressed with work than with him, so he takes the opportunity to talk to him about it while they’re out having drinks with Zayn and Ben.

“It’s not that I don’t understand, it’s that it sucks. I want to be able to wake up to you.”

“And it will happen, every few days. It’s not like we’ll never sleep together again. But there are steps to be taken in every relationship, Harry. And I wanna take all of them with you. Even if our lives are uncommon and we had an unconventional start… I still want to do _this_ , us, the normal way. That okay?”

Harry takes another sip of wine. Posh boy. Louis loves him.

“Yes. It is.” He pouts. And Louis. Well, there’s only one thing to do now: he kisses the pout away.

 

-

 

“So, when are you coming here?” Johanna asks when they Skype on the weekend. After she heard that they talked to Harry’s mom, she made a _scandal_ with Louis and practically _obligated_ him to schedule this ‘conference’.

“We really don’t know…” Harry answers easily. “Easter, maybe? I think we’ll be a little bit more free by then?” He turns to Louis.

“Yeah, think Easter’s perfect. Granny gonna be there, yeah?”

“Yes. Though it’ll be a surprise for her to see you with Harry Styles.” Jay winks.

Louis laughs.

“What am I missing?” Harry asks, a bit lost.

Jay nods on the screen, Louis answers.

“Let’s just say my grandmother is a huge fan of yours. More than my sisters. Which is clearly saying a lot.” He smiles fondly and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“That’ll be fun…” Harry muses. “Will I be allowed to hunt Easter eggs with the toddlers?” He asks Louis’ mom. Louis wants to explode.

“Of course, darling. It’s going to be good! We can’t wait to have you two boys here… Do you think your mother and sister would be interested in coming, Harry?” Jay asks him.

“My mom doesn’t really like to leave the house… But I’m going to try really hard to convince her.” He chuckles. Then his phone starts ringing. “Oh- it’s my- manager. I’ve…  I’ve gotta take it.” Harry says. “Excuse me, Jay. It’s been lovely talking to you, let’s do this more often, yeah?”

“Of course, darling. Go take your call. We can talk more later.” She sends an air-kiss and Harry smiles. He kisses Louis temple and walks away. “Isn’t he a dream?”

“He is. He really is.” Louis sighs.

“What’s wrong, boo?” His mom frowns. _Moms know best_.

“I think I know what that call is about.”

“Oh?”

“Harry needs to uh- party, this weekend. He needs to stunt a lot and look super straight until his contract’s up and he can negotiate a coming out.”

“Oh!” Her face changes.

“Yeah. It sucks. I understand, I do. I just don’t know how to handle it.”

“Well, have you talked to Annie?” His mom asks. “She must be really good at knowing how to- deal with it.”

“I have, in fact.” He smiles weakly.

“What did she say?”

“ _Love, I suppose_.” He tries to imitate her voice. “I asked her ‘ _how did you cope with it?’_ , and then she said, _‘love, I suppose’._ ” Louis explains better.

“I think she’s right.” Jay says.

Louis sees Harry walking towards the window and sitting by its side. Louis reckons it’s his favorite spot in the living room. Maybe in the entire house.

“Yes…” Louis trails, still looking at the actor. “I think she is.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're almost there. Jesus!  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
> All the love!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all!  
> So, this is technically the last chapter, because the next one is going to be an epilogue.   
> If you've made it this far, I just wanna say THANK YOU. I love you.  
> I know this wasn't an easy story to keep up with, but... We're here. I did my best for them.
> 
> A huge huge HUGE thank you goes to my beta Jada, who never once doubted me (even when I did so myself). You're a wonderful woman, and a perfect friend. I love you.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this, I really do.

        The day Louis moves out of Harry’s house and into Zayn’s apartment is stressful. No, scratch that, stressful is an understatement. You see, Louis hates moving. And he’s just found out that the only thing he hates  _ more _ than moving is having Harry whining in his ear every time he puts a box in Zayn’s truck.

“When am I even going to see you again?” The actor asks.

“Tomorrow night? At the party?” Louis asks, holding a laughter back.

“The party you’re gonna throw because you’re getting away from me?” He crosses his arms.

“The party I’m gonna throw because I’m going to a new, fancy apartment with a super cool roommate.” Louis speaks, getting closer to Harry. “Y’know why I’m doing that?”

“Why?”

“Because my friend and I finally got our heads out of our asses and decided to be boyfriends.” He hugs Harry by the neck and raises himself on the balls of his feet so their faces are aligned. “And my boyfriend is _really_ being a bitch right now, but I still love him _so_ much that I’ll let it slide.” He winks. Harry doesn’t say anything. “Does my boyfriend love me back?”

“He does.” Harry mumbles and uncrosses his arms, holding Louis by the waist instead.

“Even if I’m moving fifteen minutes away from him?”

“Even if you’re moving _very far away_ from him.” The actor nods, then kisses Louis. “I’m sorry. I’ll miss you.”

“You won’t. We’ll see each other plenty. Just- like normal, new boyfriends do.” Harry whines again. “Hey, H…”

“No, I know.” Harry smiles. “You know most of it is just me being a pain in the ass, yeah? You’re absolutely right and this is the healthy, right thing to do. I just- I feel like I _just_ got you.”

“But I’m not going anywhere away from you ever again, baby. Never.”

“You promise?”

“Yes. I promise.” Louis closes the distance between them and lets Harry manhandle him, pinning him against Zayn’s car. Louis lets Harry get his way with him, kissing him as slow as he is being kissed, just as deep, just as thoughtfully.

Louis grabs Harry’s hair with one hand, just at his nape, his new favorite spot, and tilts Harry’s head a bit, swallowing Harry’s low moan. The actor presses his body forwards and there’s no space between them. His tongue works wonders inside Louis’ mouth and they’re not bothered in the slightest by the sunlight hitting their faces.

“I go inside to get one of your fucking boxes and come back to this- unbelievable”, Zayn’s voice comes in the distance. He doesn’t sound angry at all. Amused, maybe. “I think this is the last one, princess.” He says.

Harry separates them slowly, very slowly. When Louis can’t feel his body on him anymore he looks around, then sighs.

“I guess it is. How have I managed to accumulate so much here in less than four months?”

“That’s LA for ya, mate.” Zayn says.

“You sure you don’t need me to go with you guys and help with the move?” Harry asks. “I can go, it’s no problem…”

“Hazz, you’ve got a photoshoot in… Forty minutes.” Louis says after he checks his watch.

“I hate life.” Harry groans.

“Yeah, how hard it is to be white and rich and hot and famous.” Zayn mocks him while pulling Louis by the shirt. “C’mon, Louie, let’s go, your mopy boyfriend needs to get to his very hard work…”

“ _Ha_ fucking _ha_.” Harry rolls his eyes.

“I’ll call you later, love…” Louis smiles at him.

Harry sees them off from his garage, and then Zayn speeds up on the freeway.

“Feels weird.” Louis confesses.

“You’re doing the right thing, mate. You both know it.”

“Yeah…” He agrees.

As it turns out, it is the right decision. Of course everyone had already said that, but it’s only when he gets to Zayn’s, now _their_ apartment that Louis can really understand it fully. A part of his brain admits it already misses Harry, but then again, unless Louis is _with_ him, he’s always kind of missing Harry – as manic as that might be. Still, he feels a little bit more like himself when he gets into his designated room and drops his stuff.

Zayn opens space for Louis’ not only with the bedroom, but also in his game room, and living room, and personal library. It takes them six freaking hours to unpack everything, but when they’re finally done, they order Thai food and drink four beers each in front of the TV, and when Louis texts Harry, he realizes life doesn’t get much better than this, not at this point anyways.

“Thanks for this, Zayn.” Louis says.

“What can I do- we vibe, bro.” He shrugs. Louis laughs loudly. “Should we come up with rules?” Zayn asks seriously.

“I… Think that’s a good idea.”

“All right, one second then.”

Zayn gets up and connects his phone on the stereo. Louis is about to ask _what the heck_ he is doing when _New Rules_ by Dua Lipa starts playing.

“WHAT?” Louis asks, cracking up with laughter.

“You might be all loved up, but _I_ have stuff to learn.”

“Do tell, Malik!” The journalist asks.

“Later. For now… We dance.”

And this, kids, is how Louis Tomlinson becomes best friends with the guy who is going to be his kid’s godfather. (May Cara never hear this.)

 

-

 

They’re allowed to go home for Easter. After a very long, tiring conversation with Harry’s management, Harry and Louis are allowed to fly together to the UK, but before that Harry Styles needs to go buy Chocolate eggs with Nadine Leopold, a girl who is an up and coming model – _how shocking_ – and needs a bit of promo.

Louis is at work when he gets the call. He’s just interviewed David Beckham, and realizes that he’s almost done with _his_ part of the documentary, when the telephone rings.

“It’ll just be a second”, Louis tells him.

“Take your time, mate.” Beckham replies. Now, after knowing the guy for a while, Louis can admit that he will never understand how his voice doesn’t match his whole… Image. It’s still weird for him.

“Love, hey.” He picks up the phone. “Y’alright?”

_“Yeah, yeah. You almost done there?”_

“Sort of. Why?”

_“Will you come out with us?”_

“With you and what’s her face?”

_“Nadine. Yes.”_ He hears Harry chuckling. _“Thought we could do some actual Easter shopping while out.”_

“Won’t the eggs break on the plane anyways?”

_“Uh, no, not to take to London. I wanted to get something for everyone in the cast and a few friends here. Gems and Niall are buying things for me in England_. _”_

“How posh. And how kind.” Louis smiles. “As much as I’d _love_ to do Easter shopping with you, I’m not sure I can stand an actual fake date by your side. I draw the line at stumbling out of night clubs wasted and hugging random women.” He says seriously.

_“O-okay”,_ his boyfriend stutters. _“Need me to buy something for you then? Friends at work?”_

“That would be nice. Thanks,  H.”

_“No problem, just send me a list with names.”_

“Okay.”

_“I… Love you, Louis.”_

“Love you too, H. See you later, yeah?”

_“Yeah, later. Bye.”_

Louis hangs up the phone with a sigh and pockets it again.

“Ouch.” Beckham says.

“Doesn’t suck as much as it seems.” He chuckles. “Where were we?” He asks and then they go back to work.

It really isn’t that bad. Or, okay, maybe it is, but Louis imagined it would be a lot worse. Being in this world for a long time made him see very ugly things, and many relationships perish. Closets are made for clothes, not people, and doing this with Harry goes against everything Louis has ever believed.

It stings, when he reads a stupid headline or when Zayn’s watching E! (because he is completely obsessed with celebrity life… _His_ own life) and Harry’s name shows up alongside a long list of _lovers_. He can’t lie. He gets mopy sometimes. But then again, all things in life have a price, he’s learned. And when he calls Harry in the middle of the night because he’s feeling a bit insecure and the actor answers on the first few seconds, or when Harry himself shows up at Zayn’s place with food and wine and _please let me stay the night_ , Louis knows everything they’re doing is worth it.

Plus, they get alone time. A lot of it.  This Easter holiday just proves that.

They fly in the middle of the night, since that’s when LAX is _less_ hectic, and they land in Manchester with a car already waiting for them. They both doze off in the backseat on the way to Doncaster, and Ravi, the driver, needs to clear his throat three times until they wake up.

“Sorry, Sirs. We’re here.” He says.

“Thank you.” Louis mumbles still half-asleep. “You awake, love?” He asks Harry.

“Kinda.”

“You’ll be completely up once those kids get a hand on you.”

“I’m excited.” Harry says.

“So am I.” He smiles. “C’mon, mom’s already at the door.”

If awake is a synonym to _destroyed_ , then Louis was right.

The toddlers are on him the second they cross the threshold, before Harry can even greet Jay properly. Louis guesses it’s the curls. It has to be.

“Whoa, whoa, let him breathe!” Louis says. “And please, say hi to me, you menaces.” He complains then.

Doris is the first to hug him, then Ernest does the same, and that’s when Harry’s finally able to stand on his own again.

“Hey.” He says to Jay. “So good to see you in person”, Harry smiles. Louis doesn’t turn into goo immediately. He does not.

“Can say the same”, Jay hugs him. “You smell good.”

“Mom.” Louis turns around.

“I smell like plane.” Harry chuckles. “But thank you. Your home is lovely. Hi, girls.” He turns to the older twins and Fizzy. The three of them are unmoving, and Louis burst out laughing again, getting up with Doris in his arms.

“They’re a bit star struck, I reckon.” Dan muses. “Hi, I’m Dan, Louis’- uh, Jay’s husband.”

“This is my stepdad, H.” Louis says warmly, and Dan smiles. “Those are Phoebe and Daisy. Phoebe has a scar on her left eyebrow. It’s how I tell them apart.”

“Brother of the year, you are.” Daisy jokes.

“Always am.” He smiles. “Where’s Lottie?” He asks his mom as he watches Harry hugging each girl.

“Out buying some things for dinner. She’ll be here in a bit.” His mom assures him.

“Lottie’s his favorite”, Fizzy fake-whispers.

“Félicité!” He scolds her. “That’s totally not true. I love you all equally.”

“That’s BS and you know it”, she winks.

“Where did you get _that_ vocab from?” He asks outraged.

“You”, Jay’s the one to respond. “But for that you owe five pounds to the swear jar.”

“There’s a swear jar?” Louis turns to his mom. _So much has changed since he was last home_.

“We were clearly in need of one”, she chuckles. “Lou, show Harry upstairs, poor sod is probably very overwhelmed.”

“A bit”, Harry admits, looking at Louis with twinkling eyes. “This is amazing, though. Your family’s really beautiful. Thank you for having me in your home.” He says.

“Mate, how did you manage to get with someone so polite?” Dan slaps Louis on the back.

“Beats me, Dan.” He smiles. “Go with Daddy, Doris, I need to go upstairs for a bit.” He says to his little sister, kissing her on the nose. “Minions, help us carry things upstairs.”

It’s amazing how both Phoebe and Daisy know it’s directed towards them. Harry laughs one of his _Louis laughs_ when he sees them promptly getting their bags, and then he proceeds to tell them they absolutely _do not_ have to do that.

“Let them”, Fizzy says. “They’ve missed him.”

“Only them?” Harry teases and knocks his hips with hers.

“I liked you better five seconds ago.” She teases back.

“Sure.” He winks.

“H, come here, we can freshen up before dinner.” Louis calls him from the stairs and Harry follows him, but not before kissing both Ernie and Doris on the forehead.

“What was that about Lottie being your favorite?” He asks Louis when they’re alone in the bedroom.

“She’s the oldest after me, so we’ve always been a little gang of our own. I guess Fizz is a bit jealous. Unnecessarily so, I might add.” He huffs out. “Jesus, I’m tired.” He stretches his body.

“They all seem to adore the ground you walk on. I can relate.” The actor offers, going behind him and massaging his shoulders.

“Don’t know how you’re real.” Louis whispers with his eyes closed.

“Lou…” He says close to his ear. “I kinda already love your family.”

“They love you too, baby.”

At the end of the first day, Harry’s absolutely knackered. Louis can see it in his eyes, the way they’re almost closing when he’s on the couch, talking to Lottie and Jay about house décor. He watches the scene from the hallway for a second, not wanting to disturb that.

Louis has never thought he’d meet someone who would fit so perfectly in his life, who would deal so well with his crazy big family and be just as happy to be around them as Louis is. It hits him like a truck, when he realizes that Harry’s _it_ for him. It’s not the first time, or the second, or the _tenth_ that he has this realization. But it still knocks the air out of his lungs.

“Kids are sleeping. Fizzy’s on the phone with her girlfriend, but I pretended I didn’t know.” Louis tells them.

“Fizzy has a girlfriend?” Jay asks.

“Lots?” He looks at her.

“It’s not- really a _girlfriend_. She’ll tell y’all when she’s ready.” She offers.

      “I should be less surprised…” Jay ponders. “Oh well, just hope she tells us soon enough.”

“Give it a few weeks. By the look in her eyes, she’s proper loved up.” Louis says and sits on Harry’s lap.

“Like you two?” His mom teases.

“Yes, like us two.” He doesn’t even bother hiding.

Louis rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder and lets him play with his hair, while the conversation picks up from where it was left off before he interrupted.

The journalist doesn’t even realize he’s falling asleep until there’s movement around him, and he sees his mom and his sister getting up, wishing Harry whispered good nights. They go up to the bedroom a few minutes after, Harry half-carrying his body.

Once they’re in bed, Harry lies facing him, one hand holding Louis’ hip, his thumb dancing in circles on Louis’ bare skin.                    

“Thank you for today, Harry.” Louis says, then leans forward to peck his nose. The actor smiles sheepishly.

“I love you, really. You _know_ I love you. I’ve never loved anyone else the way I love you.” He whispers.

“H… I. I’ll never stop telling you how amazing you are. Even if- when we disagree on certain things in the future… You’ll always be my favorite person.”

“Likewise.” Harry closes the distance between them.

They kiss and kiss and kiss and Louis could get lost in the hours, in time and space when he’s connected to Harry.

Louis feels a hot breath on his neck, then a tender brush of lips, burning as they make contact with the skin. One of Harry’s hands runs through his hair as his kisses become harder, more urgent. His other hand slides around Louis’ waist and pulls him on top of him, making Louis spread both legs to straddle his torso.

Harry’s kisses are now on his shoulders and is hair and his ear, and his hands are everywhere. Louis briefly thinks how incredible it is how much Harry just _knows_ him. He knows that kissing Louis’ neck is like turning the key to his engine, because once that’s done, Louis is all at his mercy.

The journalist ruts forwards and gets some friction on his dick, moaning low in his throat as Harry’s hands find the inside of Louis’ joggers, grabbing both of his asscheeks. Pure pleasure runs through his entire body, Harry’s smell absolutely intoxicating in the confined bedroom. Louis kisses him on the mouth again, attacking his lips full force, just thirsty for _one more_.

Harry rolls their bodies on the bed and hovers over Louis, skimming his face with interested, hungry eyes.

“Are we really gonna do it in your mom’s house?” He smirks.

“I’m game if you are.” Louis says, leaning forwards for one more kiss.

“You’re filthy, Louis Tomlinson. _Filthy.”_

“You love it.” He teases.

“I do. I do, I love it.” Harry kisses him. “I love you.” He trails kisses down Louis’ chest and then pulls his joggers and pants down, all at once. Louis is done for the second Harry’s lips touch his dick.

 

-

 

On Easter Day, Gemma wakes them up at ass o’clock to let them know she and Anne are on their way. Louis wants to curse at her, but refrains from it.

“Where’s Niall?” Harry asks, since they’re on speaker.

_“Ireland. He’ll be back for Soph’s birthday, though.”_

“Uh- good.” He answers and then frowns at Louis.

_“See you in a bit!”_ Gemma says and hangs up.

“We’re staying longer for Sophia’s birthday, remember? Liam’s throwing her a party.” Louis tells him.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“You’re a very cute sleepy bunny.” Louis smooths his hand on Harry’s hair. “It’s Easter, you’re a bunny. See what I did there?” He smiles.

“You’re spending too much time with me, Lou.” Harry smiles back, eyes still closed. “Is it okay if we sleep a bit more?”

“You can go back to sleep, I’ll go downstairs see if Mom needs help. I’ll wake you up when your family gets here.”

“Hmkay. Thank you.”

Louis kisses him on the forehead and gets out of bed, going downstairs quickly.

The house is already fairly awake. The only _late risers_ here have always been Louis and Fizzy, but now that he’s up, only Harry and his teenage sister are asleep.

He helps Jay the best he can. He gives the kids baths while Dan and Lottie set the table, and he braids Phoebe’s and Daisy’s hair. Mostly, he just hangs out with them. When Gemma calls that she’s ten minutes away _according to google maps_ , he makes Harry get out of bed and shower, and soon enough he’s opening the door to greet his boyfriend’s sister and mother.

He’d like to say he isn’t terrified, but he is. Even though he’s spoken to Anne before, she’s always been on the other side of a screen. When they actually saw each other, at Harry’s birthday, Louis was nothing more than a _friend_ , so… Yes, he’s losing it. He has no idea how Harry _wasn’t_ afraid of meeting his mother ( _he swore he wasn’t anyways_ ), because he can feel himself go _cold_ with nervousness.

Anne is amazing.

The minute Louis introduces himself properly _as Harry’s boyfriend_ he receives a warm hug, and notices, again, that comfortable embraces are definitely a Styles thing. Even Gemma, who’s usually _too cool for that,_ gives the best hugs ever, and as he says it, over his shoulder, he can see Anne smiling as Gemma scoffs.

“Please, feel at home. Let me introduce you to everyone…” He says and takes them inside.

Like in a fairy tale, or at least _Louis’_ version of a fairy tale, before Harry even comes down the stairs, Johanna and Anne are already best friends. It’s… Instant, really. They just connect with each other over the wallpaper in the hallway. It’s… Magical. And if the journalist is being honest, everything seems a lot like magic ever since he and Harry got together.

They’re in the kitchen talking about lunch when Harry finds them, and Gemma is already somewhere in the house with Lottie and the older twins. Louis has Ernest on his lap and Anne is playing with Doris as she pays attention to what Jay is saying, but they’re all startled once Harry says:

“This is my new favorite day.”

“Good morning, son.” Anne says, but doesn’t move, clearly not wanting to let go of the kid. Harry makes his way to her and kisses her on the cheek, hugging her sideways. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mom”, he says. “Hi, Doris! Ready to hunt Easter eggs today?” He asks.

“YES!” The girl screams in his face.

Harry laughs.

“We’ll have so much fun.” He promises. “All of us!” Harry turns to Ernest, moving to tickle his belly. “Good morning, baby.”

“Morning.” Louis replies.

“I was talking to your brother.”

“I know.” He shrugs, and then laughs. Harry pecks his lips in front of their moms. It feels bigger and more important than if he did it for the entire world.

Today might be Louis’ new favorite day too. He calls Cara to wish her a Happy Easter and then texts Liam. Zayn facetimes them and it’s cute how he says he already misses his friends. _Please come back soon_ , he asks. Harry calls Nick Grimshaw, and Louis pretends he doesn’t hate it, because he’s come to understand that they really are kind of friends above all.

After lunch, when Harry’s running around with the kids in the backyard and Gemma is talking wine with Jay and Dan, Louis sits by Anne’s side, who’s talking to Fizzy and the older twins. She isn’t a very open woman, Louis knows that, but today she fits in just like his boyfriend; today, she belongs. The smile on her face is worth of everything, he thinks.

“Everything all right?” He asks her.

“Yes, your sisters were telling me about their up and coming summer hols…”

“Oh, what are you doing?” He asks them.

“Our friend Spencer invited us to her Paris house, can you believe it? And mom let us go!” Daisy tells him.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” He smiles genuinely. “You’re gonna love Paris.”

“We know!” They respond in unison. He and Anne laugh.

“What about you Fizz?” Louis turns to her.

“Don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“You could come to the US…” He offers. “I’ll be free and I think Harry will too, the movie wraps up in June… He’ll have one month off before he starts another one, so.”

“Another one?” Anne asks.

“Oh. I guess that was a secret.” He smiles. Right at this second, Harry turns his head from the yard and smiles at him. Louis’ heart skips a beat. “He got another role in a very big franchise; he’ll tell you the details later, but… Yeah. Guess we’re staying in Cali for a bit more.”

“We?” Félicité raises her eyebrows.

“I… Yes. We. You’re welcome to join us for the summer. All of you.” He says. “Even you two-” he tells Daisy and Phoebe. “That is- if you get bored with Paris.” Louis jokes.

“I need to talk to Mom!” Fizzy gets up and Louis laughs.

“HEY, YOU, COME PLAY!” Harry screams with Ernie on his shoulders.

“Go.” Louis incentives them.

Daisy and Phoebe get up at the same time.

“Your siblings all look a lot like you…” Anne comments.

“We have strong genes.” He agrees.

“You know…” She starts.

“Oh. It’s that moment, isn’t it?”

“What moment?”

“The ‘ _mom talk’_? My mom talked to Harry the second day we were here.”

“Well. Yes.” She smiles. “But it’s a good talk.”

“I hope so.” Louis chuckles. Somehow, _now_ , he’s not nervous.

“It’s just… I’ve never seen him like this. _Never._ ” The woman sighs in wonder. “You know… A while ago I made him promise he’d never introduce me to someone unless it was real. With all the… Stunting, I thought it’d take a lot longer.” Anne says. Louis lets her talk. “I’m not stupid; I know Harry’s had relationships before, although I don’t know the exact… Nature of them.” She chuckles. “Harry never shut up about you ever since he met Cara. I would ask him how the day had gone and he’d mention you, first thing.”

“Really?” Yet another smile takes over Louis’ face. He can’t help but let his eyes wander to his boyfriend again.

“Really.”

“I knew it was going to be you. It took a while, but… I’m happy we’re all here.”

“Yeah…” He answers, voice trembling. “I’m happy too.” _So, so happy_.

Anne takes his hand and Louis holds hers strongly. Harry looks at them again and  then looks up to the sky. If he is thanking the heavens… Then he and Louis are doing the same thing at the moment.

It’s been hard as hell getting here. Not just with Harry, but… In general. Louis hasn’t had the easiest life, emotionally speaking. And it took him forever to make sense of the world again, after so much’s happened. But, after searching for so, so long, he’s finally made it home.

A home is made of the people you fill it with. And people can be broken, sure, but anyone who’s been in his position knows: what’s broken can be mended, what’s hurt can be healed… And no matter how dark it gets, the sun is going to rise again.

 

-

 

When they ring Liam’s doorbell, they’re almost sure no one’s going to hear. The noise coming from inside the house is insane, and at the end, after innumerous texts, Cara is the one who opens the door.

“HELLO, THERE!” She screams.

“Wow, this is deja vu.” Harry says. “First time I entered your house, you opened the door the same way, I swear.”

“But I said _hello fake boyfriend,_ or something.” She says. “Now you’re here with your very real boyfriend.”

“Yes, yes, I am.” Harry says and kisses Louis’ temples just because. He’s one of the most affectionate people Louis has ever encountered, and it makes the journalist love him even more. “Shall we go in?”

“Lead the way, love.”

They enter the flat together, Cara hugging Louis by the neck, while he holds Harry’s hand with his free side.

“How are you, my love? I’ve missed you.” She kisses his cheek wetly.

“I’ve missed you too, babes.” He says truthfully.

Life with Harry is great. It truly is amazing. But Louis would be lying if he said he didn’t miss his ready-to-go life with Cara, too. Tonight they make up for lost time. He gets in, hugs Liam’s girlfriend, wishes her happy birthday, hugs Liam for at least five minutes, and then sits with Cara in a corner, doing what they used to do at industry parties before their lives changed completely.

They people-watch and create stories for everyone in the room. Harry joins them for an hour or so, but then gets distracted by Man U fans, asking all kinds of things about the games. It’s funny how star struck he looks with them, when he’s also a real international star.

“My God, you’re so stupid for him.” Cara whispers.

“I am.” He agrees. “I think…” Louis trails. “Remember that day, when I convinced you to be his beard?”

“Like it was yesterday.” His best friend smiles. “You said Harry deserved better.” Cara smiles, watching the actor do shots with Liam. “He got it.” She nudges Louis’ side. “He got better. He got _the best._ ” The model tells him.

“I love you.” Louis says. “Thanks for introducing me to the love of my life.”

“I was just the conduit, Lou.” Cara tells him. “It’s like you knew before everything.”

“Even if I acted like an idiot for almost a whole year?” He snorts.

“You both had some growing up to do. We all did.” She reckons.

“Yeah… Maybe.”

“Hey, you two, come here!” Sophia calls them, holding two shot glasses. “There’s tequila with your names on it.”

“We’re being summoned!” Louis gets up and pulls his best friend by the hand. “THE PARTY IS HERE!” Louis announces.

“As if you can hold your liquor, Tomlinson!” Niall teases him. “You’re all talk.” He shoves his shoulder.

“Oi!” Louis complains. “Harold, defend me!”

“Babe, you can’t hold your liquor.” He says, pulling Louis closer. “But I love you anyways.” Harry kisses him. Harry _kisses_ him.

“H… There are people who- you know.”

“Don’t mind them.” He mumbles and kisses Louis again. “I love you, Louis.”

“I love you more.”

“Not a chance.”

“HELLO, SHOTS?” Sophia screams again.

“YES, SHOTS!” Louis turns around. “Jesus, girl, calm down you alcohol freak.”

“I need to enjoy my birthday to the fullest, Tomlinson.” She says, kind of scolding him, kind of joking.

“Your girlfriend is rad, Lima Bean.” Louis says, taking a shot right after. “Ugh.”

“Yeah… She’s amazing.” Liam agrees. “Hey, Lou… Can you keep a secret?” The footballer slurs in his ear.

“I can.”

“I’m going to marry that girl someday.” He points his beer at Sophia.

She’s fixing her ponytail and pouring another shot in Harry’s glass. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead. The biggest smile in the world almost splits his face in two when he raises the glass in the air and toasts to Louis.

“Hey, Li… Can you keep one?” Louis asks, Liam nods. Harry downs the shot and screams in celebration. Slowly, but with the utmost certainty, Louis whispers to Liam: “I’m gonna marry that boy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got laptop problems yet again, so the epilogue's going to be up when my sister decides to lend me her computer. Hopefully, see you in a week.
> 
> All the love <3


	21. Epilogue - Piece by Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for getting here.  
> I love you.

 

 

**LOLA’S LITTLE THINGS** , Harry reads on a piece of paper as Louis quietly turns the page.

“What is this, love?” He asks coming from behind him, kissing Louis’ temple as he gets closer to read it.

“I’m making a list of all Lola’s things for when Zayn comes to stay with her.”

“Oh, baby, what is that-” Harry squints his eyes and reads.  _ “Six pm, Lola’s shower. What Lola wears to bed: either her bunny night gown or floral PJ’s… _ ” The actor feels a smile spreading across his face as Louis impatiently taps the pen besides the little notebook. “What is this here…?” He points.

“Something like a dictionary?” His husband kind of asks back.

“ _ After the shower, Lola’s gonna say Tee. It means she wants to brush her teeth… _ Louis!” Harry coos.

“She has to be able to communicate. I’m scared she won’t be able to get everything she wants once we’re in England…” He protests, the cutest tone to his voice.

“Lou, you have no reason to be nervous, it’ll go all right in England, I promise you. And I’ll be there with you, you know that.” Harry sits by his side at the table and catches his hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing them.

Louis squeezes back.

“’M not worried about going to England. I’m worried about leaving Lola behind for so long for the first time.” He says.

“I know, babe, and it’s quite hard, but she’ll be okay, yeah? Zayn’s taken care of her before.” Harry smiles cheekily.

“Not for a whole _week_.” Louis looks down.

Harry would say his heart was breaking right now, but it’s the complete opposite. It’s just so… _Whole_ , and so filled with _love_ for this man right here, their daughter and their life together that he can barely put words together.

“Hey…” He gets closer and brings both of Louis’ hands to his lips, pressing his mouth there, kissing his knuckles and keeping them close to his heart as he speaks again. “It’ll pass by really quickly. And then we’ll be right back here with Lola in our home. Don’t worry, Lou. Please.”

“Isn’t being a parent always worrying?” His husband frowns.

“Maybe…” Harry gives in. “But also- also knowing when their child is going to be okay.” He states. “Remember when I had to travel only two months after we brought her home?” Louis nods. “I went nuts thinking of everything that could go wrong while I was away. But then I remembered she’d be here with you, and you are…” He takes a deep breath. “You are the most amazing father I could ever imagine and I am so, so lucky to share a daughter with you. I knew she’d be okay because she’d be with you.”

Louis sighs.

“I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?” His husband gives in, a smile appearing on his face.

“No. You’re being a _dad_. Like I said: a _wonderful_ one. Okay?”

“Okay.” Louis smiles. “And Harry?” Harry looks at him. “You’re also the most amazing father and husband I could ever imagine.” He leans in to kiss him. Harry closes his eyes just in time. “I love you.” Louis whispers to his mouth.

“I love you, too.” Harry replies. “So-” he pecks Louis mouth once again. “What else do we need to write down?” He looks at the little notebook again and Louis picks up the pen.

Together, they finish Lola’s wishlist before brunch, and the actor can hardly think of a better way to start his Sunday.

He fucking loves his life.

Once they’re done with it, Harry hears a little sound coming from upstairs, and he’s pretty sure their daughter has just woken up, so he kisses Louis on the cheek and asks him to get started on their food (he can cook  _ two _ whole meals now, after almost ten years), because he’s going to get Lola.

 

Harry climbs the stairs slowly. The two year old isn’t a major fan of people when she wakes up, much like both of her dads, so Harry always makes sure to give her a few minutes whining in bed before he goes in and says hello. Once he does, though, her face lights up and gives him a big smile, both arms in the air, asking for him.

The actor picks her up and kisses her head, holding Lola close to his chest and moving slowly around the bedroom; he always kind of dances with her, murmuring  _ Isn’t She Lovely _ by Stevie Wonder - the song Louis played on the guitar still at the hospital when they got the call she’d been born.

 

They opted for a surrogate instead of adopting, just because it seemed like less of a hassle at the time. 

When Harry came out, two years after their relationship started, one year before they got married, their lives were scrutinized to a point in which both the actor and the journalist thought they wouldn’t recover from. By then, Harry was on yet another break, after taking three movies in a row, and Louis was already working for ESPN channel, as a sports commentator, of course.

They had long decided that they’d build their lives in Los Angeles, just because it seemed like the right thing to do, and when Harry got the green light to come out of the closet, almost six months after suggestive interviews, it seemed like a good idea to do it together at a San Francisco Gay Parade. That was also the day Louis moved back into Harry’s house - their house.

But hell started. 

If Harry thought he didn’t have privacy before, nothing compared to the way people came at him back then. Of course, he had Louis by his side, but even Louis, being the public figure that he was - is - suffered a lot through it. And even though it was extremely worth it (they’re here right now, aren’t they?), when they thought about bringing a baby home, they looked for the most private way possible to do it.

If they’d chosen adoption, then they risked more exposure, but with the surrogate it was almost… Easy. Of course they spent more money than one would believe with security details and NDAs, but they were just so scared that the media would interfere in their lives before they were ready to tell the world about Lola, that everything was meticulously planned.

And it worked.

 

Harry and Louis spent two weeks with Lola at home before they announced they had a baby. It was amazing. 

 

“Are you hungry, baby?” Harry asks her in a cute voice, nuzzling her cheek. “Papa’s downstairs cooking us brekkie, think you’re going to like it?” He jokes.

Lola rarely eats what Louis makes. He can’t really blame her. But his breakfast is good. Harry’s taught him well.

“Wa-ha”, Lola says, fumbling her hands and accidently hitting Harry’s cheek.

“You want some water, baby?” He asks. “Yes, you do. Ok, let’s go downstairs then…”

 

Louis hears them getting to the kitchen and lowers the fire on the stove, turning around to say good morning to Lola. He strides across the kitchen and steals her from Harry’s arms, swirling around the island and singing a good morning song Harry’s pretty sure his husband has just made up.

The actor remembers the first time he saw Louis holding a baby; it was when Sophia and Liam had their first child and they traveled to London to visit them at home. Harry was having a beer with Liam downstairs while Louis and Sophia talked in the baby room, and when Harry went there to fetch him, offer him a beer, he found Louis holding baby Chris, sitting on a rocking chair. He was awestruck by the scene, and his heart was so filled with love that he almost teared up before he could get a word out.

It wasn’t like Harry had never thought of having kids with Louis - it was pretty much  _ all _ Harry thought about -, but that moment was a defining one, he thinks. On that very same night he asked Louis if they could have their own baby someday in the near future, and Louis responded with  _ I’d have a baby with you tomorrow _ .

It’s been four years since then, Liam and Sophia have now two kids, with another one on the way, and here they are, on their first, talking about a second and a third, but Harry’s heart still skips a few beats at the sight of Louis holding a baby;  _ their _ baby. 

“What are we having for brekkie, baby?” Louis asks her.

“She needs some water”, Harry tells him, assuming the cooking position while Louis places her on the high chair and opens the fridge.

“On it.” His husband replies. “What time does Zayn get here again?”

“Soon”, Harry answers. “Our flight’s at five, so we need to leave to the airport after lunch. Zayn’s supposed to bring us lunch.”

“Oh, he’s just texted…” Louis checks his phone. “In-N-Out okay?” He asks, but Harry figures he already knows the answer, so he just shrugs. “Gonna ask him to grab you a salad at that place you like. Ceasar? Extra chicken?”

“You know me.” Harry smiles. “Would I be a bad parent if I gave Lola strawberry and chocolate crepes for breakfast?” He asks.

“Babe, she’s two years old.” The journalist chuckles. “Maybe leave the crepes to the adults…?”

“Are you saying this because you want more for yourself?” Harry smiles and turns around, Louis already there.

“Maybe…” He muses and kisses him. “Hm… You taste good.”

“Nutella.”

“Nah. Harry.” His husband rubs his nose against his, then pecks his lips again. “Strawberries and Bananas for Miss Lola. Crepes with chocolate for me.” Louis smiles.

“Right away, love.” Harry kisses him again, then takes a few steps to kiss Lola, and resumes to his task.

 

Life couldn’t be better, that’s what Harry would say if you asked him. He is thirty years old now, has won three Golden Globes and one Oscar, has been married to the love of his life for almost five years, been dating him for even longer, and has the most beautiful daughter in the entire universe. He’s also directly in touch with all of the charities he and Louis support, and manages to make it to almost all the fundraising events they throw.

Harry visits all of his friends regularly - the ones in the US and the ones in the UK. He and Louis travel for vacation twice a year, and rarely fight; sure, they have spats like every couple who live in each other’s pockets do, but even those feel like a dream when he remembers with whom he’s fighting in the first place.

His relationship with his father is better, way better; granted, most of it is due to Gemma and her interference, but they’re at a point in which the actor can say that Des, his father, is a part of his life again. He sometimes visits Lola and brings gifts; he’s remarried and has no kids, but lives a normal, quiet life in Cheshire still. 

Harry’s mom has moved to London, a small flat close to Gemma and Niall’s place, and travels to Doncaster every other weekend to visit Jay (who’s retired) and Louis’ siblings that are still home (Fizzy is in Oxford now, almost done with uni, and Lottie is in Germany, living with her boyfriend and working for a makeup line). 

It seems as though almost every aspect of his life is in place. Almost, because there’s still a pending one - one he and his husband are going to the UK to address. Louis father is about to leave jail, having his sentence reduced for good behavior, and Harry will only rest properly once his husband has buried this hatchet. 

 

-

 

They spend the morning playing with their daughter and fussing over her. As much as Harry doesn’t want to admit, leaving her with Zayn is making him a bit antsy too.

“It’s like we’re going to war.” Louis jokes, kissing her forehead softly. “Are we always going to be like this?”

“Hope so.” Harry’s eyes glisten. 

“Mom says we’ll be better with baby number two.” He says.

“Maybe…” He agrees. “But for now”, he pulls Lola on top of his body, sitting her on his stomach, “we get to be as crazy attached as we want”, Harry says as turns his head to the side, and Louis is already there, ready to kiss him.

“Have I told you I love you today?” He asks. These are Harry’s favorite moments, when they declare their love for each other and the biggest proof of all is with them, being held by the both of them.

“Yes. But you can tell me again”, the actor smiles and hears a squeaky sound coming from Lola. Louis looks around and hands her what she was asking for, a stuffed bunny Cara got her on Easter. 

“I love you, Harry Styles.”

“It’s Tomlinson-Styles for you.” 

“I like the sound of that…” His husband smiles.

“Da-da…” Lola slaps Harry’s face.

“Hi, baby, hello!” He sits up and moves her with him, “let’s play with Missy? What do you say? Let’s find her in the yard, c’mon, c’mon.” He gets up.

Missy is their rescue dog who came into the picture a bit more than six months ago when Harry found her outside the studio on a rainy day. She’s huge and not at all polite, so they can’t let her inside the house often, but they bought her one in the yard and she lives there like a princess. The only time the dog calms down is around Lola, whom she treats with the utmost care. It’s beautiful to watch.

“I’ll shower while you guys play, kay?” Louis says, getting up too.

“Yeah, babe, sure. Can you finish packing? I got lazy.”

“No kidding!” He snorts. For someone who used to give Louis too much shit for being unprepared when traveling, Harry seems to be exactly the same now. He guesses couple  _ do  _ start to get very similar (physically and personality wise) after a long time living together. “I’ll finish packing and I’ll make our bed and Lola’s.”

“Who would’ve thought you’d make a perfect housewife…” The actor sing songs.

“Not me. After all, I only married you for your housework skills.” Louis teases.

“Sucks for you then.” Harry shows him his tongue.

“No, it doesn’t. It really doesn’t.”

 

-

 

When Zayn finally arrives at the house, after making a small detour to buy camping gear (“it’s going to be awesome, Lola will love to camp in the backyard”), Louis has just put Lola to take a nap, so he has his arms free for when his friend throws himself in his arms.

“It’s been five days since I last saw you, Malik.”

“I missed you, wanker.” He says and walks into the house, straight to the kitchen. “Where’s my goddaughter?”

“Sleeping, gonna wake her up before we go to say bye.”

“And my work husband?”

“Upstairs, answering some emails. Your bosses are a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but we like them, I think.”

Harry and Zayn are, undoubtedly, one of Hollywood’s favorite bromances of all times, so much that they’ve been invited for a TV show, and have just started recording it. Harry prefers movies, Louis knows that, but after a long and stressful talk, they decided that this was the best thing to do right now. They really want more kids, and with movies Harry’s always traveling, whereas this show allows him to stay in Los Angeles for at least two years in a row.

It’s not like Harry won’t ever go back to the big screens, he will. But this was a good opportunity, personally and for their family, plus, Zayn was really excited to work with him again. Turned out to be a win-win to everyone.

“Beer?” Louis asks.

“Planes still make you antsy?” Zayn asks back.

“A bit.” He chuckles and passes a long neck bottle to his friend. “How’s life?”

“Same old, same old.”

“And Josh?”

“In Hawaii.” 

“You and your surfers, I swear to God…” Louis rolls his eyes.

Zayn never really settled down. His longest relationship lasted nine months and that was two years ago; he likes to play the mysterious part and say he might be aromantic after all, but Louis knows this is a load of bullshit. He’s lived with Zayn long enough to know he is still in love with the straight guy from his hometown, and if what he feels for that man is anywhere near what Louis feels for Harry, then the journalist knows for a fact it’s never going away.

He pretends he doesn’t know, though. He makes fun of him and laughs it all off, but always makes sure to look at Zayn a certain way, and say, without really speaking, that he’s  _ here _ , and they can always talk if Zayn feels like it.

“He’ll come back in time.” Zayn smiles.

“They always do, don’t they?”

“I’m that good.” He winks, Louis laughs. He knows. He and Harry have had their fair share of threesomes with the actor years ago, before they got married, when they’d all get stoned at Zayn’s place. The thought is ridiculous now. But yes, it has happened.

 

“Hey, Z”, Harry says coming into the kitchen. “Got my food?”

“Fridge, mate.”

“Thanks. Have you guys eaten?”

“We were waiting for you, love.” Louis tells him. “Are we ready?”

“Yeah. They gave me a few more days off, so we could take Lola to San Fran when I get back, at least for the weekend.”

“Music to my ears…” Louis muses.

 

“You nervous, Lou?” Zayn asks once they start eating. 

Louis simply shrugs. Both actors share looks across the table and Louis knows they’re communicating, but he doesn’t really pay attention to their unspoken concerns, he’s sure Harry’s going to voice them at some point.

 

-

 

When it’s time to leave, Louis goes upstairs to wake Lola up and the little girl grumbles and complains, kicking Louis more than once.

“She really is your daughter”, Zayn muses.

“Shut it.” He complains. “Hey, baby… Papa’s got to go for a few days, okay?”

“Go?” She repeats the word. Louis is sure she doesn’t know what it means.

“Yeah, but guess who’s here?” He asks, taking her in his arms. “Your Zayn is here… Look.” He says, still in a low voice.

“Hi, lil monster…” He says, taking her hand and giving it a kiss. 

“Lou made a list, it’s on the fridge. There’s everything there, including her new words… Well… Syllables.” Harry explains. “If you need anything, anything whatsoever you can call us and we’ll come back, okay?”

“Harry.” Zayn sighs.

“Seriously, Zayn, promise us you’ll call.” Louis says, hugging Lola closer to his chest.

“I swear if you were anyone else I’d be feeling offended.” He laughs. “Pass me the kid, Tommo.” Zayn all but grabs Lola from him. “There we go, Miss Lola. Tell your dads to stop being silly, because we’re going to have a lot of fun, yeah?”

“We know. We’re just going to miss her.” Harry walks closer to Zayn and nuzzles his daughter cheek. Then picks her up to give her a hug. “Dad’s going to miss you so much, lil peanut.”

“Da-” The girl says.

“Yes, I will.” He kisses her cheek. Louis can’t help but do the same.

“We love you, Lola.” The journalist whispers.

“Pass her back,  _ Tomlinsons _ . Now.” Zayn says, a murderous and funny look on his face.

“We’ll skype every day.” Louis says.

“I know. At breakfast, to say good morning.”

“Yes.” Harry agrees.

“Now  _ bye. _ ” Zayn says. “Want us to walk you out?”

“No.” Louis says. He knows it’s easier this way.

 

Lucky for him, Zayn knows it isn’t personal, it’s just… Louis is really nervous, like, really nervous, for a number of reasons, one of them being: he’s the one who needs to pick his father from the penitentiary, since Fizzy is in the middle of finals and Lottie refused to go back to England for that. Louis would never make his mom do it, so he took it upon himself.

Harry could’ve stayed back; the amount of bad promo they’re probably going to get for that is unimaginable, and Harry’s management almost ripped his head off when the told them he was coming along, but that was non-negotiable. Harry put his food down and said that there was no way he would let his husband go through that alone, and that was it.

Amongst many things, Louis thinks reliability is still one of his favorite things about Harry. He remembers saying that the first time he confessed his love for him, and not a day has gone by in which Harry has proved him wrong. He’s so very reliable that Louis sometimes forgets he’s ever lived a life without his support. Back then Louis trusted Harry with his life, and now, the only difference is that Louis not only trusts Harry with his own life, but also with theirs, and Lola’s.

Harry’s the most present, constant husband one could ask for; and his presence sometimes has nothing to do with being physically there, which makes him all the more special. He’s physically here now, though, and this means more than Louis could ever explain.

 

“Do you want to sleep?” Harry asks once they’re inside the plane. 

“I think so.”

“Here…” He opens his palm and there are two sleeping pills there. One never knocks Louis out completely. “Want me to wake you up for food?”

“Not really.” Louis says, then downs the pills with water. “Can we get fish and chips once we get there?”

“Course.”

Harry doesn’t even try to fight him on time zones anymore. 

Louis smiles, kisses him, and closes his eyes, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

 

-

 

A bad day in London is still better than a good day anywhere else. Or so the say.

The first thought Harry has when they land at Heathrow is that this isn’t home anymore. Sure, he’s always going to recognize these sounds, and smells, and sky. This place will never not be familiar. But after building a life in the United States, Harry has come to realize that home isn’t really a place, but a feeling. And even though Louis is here with him, he thinks his husband would agree with him that the place where they feel the safest, the most  _ them _ is in their LA house.

Harry knows it was hard for Louis, at the beginning. The actor himself was already kind of used to not living here when they started dating, but it took Louis more than one year to stop referring to the UK as  _ going home _ every time they’d take a trip here. But, eventually, he started to enjoy the Hollywood lifestyle, which can be fake and plastic, but also healthily addicting if you surround yourself with the right people.

Los Angeles works better for them now, and England is the place that raised them so they could go into the world.

The air is as humid as it gets this time of the year, and Harry is completely exhausted because he decided against sleeping the whole flight, watching movie after movie. He hates himself for that decision now.

 

“I’ll get the car, you get the luggage?” Louis asks.

“Sure.”

“Wait for you in the car park.”

Harry lazily moves to get the bags and then walks towards the lift, doing his best to stay incognito as he makes his way to meet Louis. No one tipped off paps, but somehow they found out when they’d land, so the airport is a bit chaotic outside; thank God Niall rented them a car two days ago, otherwise they would’ve had to leave through the front doors and Harry just- can’t.

As promised, Louis is waiting for him by the car, and loads the trunk while Harry takes a seat on the passenger side, waiting for him.

“Can you believe it feels weird to drive here now?” Louis asks. “Can’t believe you made me proper American, we’re betraying our roots.”

“You just said  _ proper American _ , our roots are just fine.” He smiles.

They drive in silence till Louis can find a place that sells fish and chips 24/7 - not very difficult - and his husband massages his neck while they wait for the food in the drive through. The city happens quickly around them, but Harry sees everything in slow motion, as if people are dancing to heavy metal but all Harry can keep up with is classic ballet.

The second they enter their flat Harry throws himself on the bed, wishing Louis a good night. His husband laughs and kisses his nose, going back to the kitchen to eat something.

 

-

 

All in all, Harry doesn’t think it’s too bad. Sure, they have to hire security detail to meet Louis’ father outside the penitentiary, but the paps don’t ask questions and don’t scream at them. Neither of them exits the car; when Mark shows his face through the gates, Louis honks and he walks towards the car. Then Louis drives.

“Where are we going?” Mark asks. 

Louis doesn’t respond.

“A B&B for now”, Harry answers. “We’re not sure uh- where you’ll live.”

“I thought… The house?”

“No way in hell.” Louis roars.

“Félicité told me no one lives there anymore. Your mother is remarried, and-”

“You are not going back there.”

“Lou…” Harry tries.

“No, Harry.”

“How’s my granddaughter?” Mark tries a new question.

Louis huffs out a breath, so the actor stretches a hand across the car console and places it on his thigh, smoothing his thumb there in circular motions.

“She stayed in LA with our friend; she’s two years old now, and she’s gorgeous.” Harry answers.

“May I see a picture? I- I never did.”

Slowly, Louis nods, so Harry pulls up his phone and passes it to him.

“Oh my God!” Mark places both hands on his mouth, eyes filling up with water instantly.

Louis pulls up on the road, unable to drive anymore.

“Stop it!” He turns around angry.

“Lou.”

“No, Harry-”

“Louis.” The actor calls his name more seriously. “Look at me.” He asks. Louis does. Mark is still staring at the picture, but Harry knows he’s paying attention to their conversation. “Remember what we talked about?” He takes Louis’ face in his hands. “You can’t change what has already happened. Move on, let go, and get over it. Let’s be happy, baby.” Harry softly caresses his upper cheeks. 

“It’s not that simple.”

“No. But if I managed with my dad, you can manage with yours, yeah?” He says. “I know it’s not the same, but-” Louis shuts him up with a kiss. It’s a quick one, but it’s firm. It has Harry surprised.

Then he turns around, one hand still on the wheel.

“Her name’s Lola, after Granny.” He tells Mark. “I’m not about to call you  _ dad _ again, but I’m trying. I really am.”

“It’s all I ask, Lou.” His father gives in. 

 

They don’t speak much throughout the drive, but Lola is the main topic; then they mention Louis’ sisters and Louis himself, though Harry does more talking than his husband. It’s okay, in the end. 

They make it to the B&B early in the afternoon, and Louis goes straight to the front desk to check Mark in.

 

“I have a small flat in Donny, if you want to go back there. You don’t have to pay rent, but you should find a job to handle utility bills.” He says seriously, then hands two keys to his father. One for his room here, one for the flat.

That should surprise Harry, but it doesn’t; he knew his husband would come around. He’s too compassionate not to.

“Louis, thank you!”

“I was going to give it to Fizz, the second she graduated, but...” He sighs. 

“If I find a job I’ll be out of there in two months. You can still give it to her.”

“That’d be ideal.” Louis concedes. “Well, I guess that’s it-” Mark hugs him. Harry watches Louis go rigid, and he doesn’t move to hug him back. But he doesn’t push him away either. So, it’s a step.

“Thank you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to the rest of you.”

“Okay.” The journalist exhales, then walks out.

“Harry?” Mark calls his name before he follows Louis.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for making my son happy.”

“He makes me happy every day.” Is what Harry responds. “I just try to reciprocate.”

“I can see it. Thank you, for everything.”

Harry nods.

“We’ll bring Lola here for Christmas. You can meet her then… If it’s okay with Lou.” He offers.

“I’d really love that.”

“We’ll be in touch.” Harry assures him. “Bye, Mark.” Then he walks out too.

With the feeling of  _ mission accomplished _ , he and Louis get in the car. The way Louis kisses him when they get home says everything, and later at night, when they go for two rounds of loud, shower sex, it’s like, once again, they’re about to start a new chapter in their lives - an even brighter one. There’s only one way for Louis and Harry to go, and that’s forwards. Always forwards. And always together.

 

-

 

Every time they come to London they are in the UK there is a list of people they need to visit. Both their mothers are in Tuscany, enjoying a holiday, so this time they don’t see them. But it’s okay, it gives them more time to see the others.

Their first stop is Gemma and Niall’s place, and if Louis thinks their house is a mess because of one child, his friends’ triplex flat in central London is even more hectic. Louis would’ve never pegged Gemma for a mother of two, but she was the first one of their friendship group to get married and have babies. 

“Where are my favorite lads in the world?” Louis almost screams as soon as the door is open.

“RIGHT HERE!” Niall screams back.

“You’re disgusting.” Louis bypasses him and hugs Thomas, receiving a very tight one from the five year old. “Hi, Tom, how you doing?”

“Great, uncle Lou!” He smiles. “Hi, uncle Harry!” He says and then moves towards Harry to hug him too.

Louis gets up and hugs Niall and Gemma at the same time.

“Where’s Eddie?” Harry asks, taking the words from Louis’ mouth.

“Upstairs. He’s grounded cause he’s just broken a vase your mom gave us last year…” Niall tells Harry.

“Poor lad, I’m gonna go upstairs cheer him up. Wanna join me?” He asks the other kid.

“Can I, mom?”

“ _ Yes _ , but if you lend him your videogame you’re going to get grounded too, got it?” She raises one finger.

Thomas runs before he answers, and Louis goes after him.

 

Niall doesn’t handle Harry anymore, since Harry’s changed managements. But he still works with artists, but not international ones. While Harry and Louis decided to expand to the US, Gemma and Niall both agreed that it would be better for them to stay within the UK now. Louis guesses it makes sense, they have kids to worry about now - he  _ gets _ it - but a very nostalgic part of him misses it when they were all a gang.

 

They spend the day at the Styles residence - Gemma made Niall take her name, which was the funniest, most awesome thing Louis has ever witnessed - and Harry even cooks for them. The four of them talk a lot, and when Harry finally sits down, they play games with the boys, then promise them to bring Lola next time.

“You can always visit us, you know? Your parents have money for that.” Harry teases, but Louis knows he is serious. He doesn’t talk much about it, but he can tell how much his husband misses Gemma. It’s probably the only downside of living in America, for him.

“We were actually thinking about taking them to Disney next month… We could show up for a visit for a few days.”

“That’d be awesome, Gems.” Harry’s eyes light up.

“Guess we’re traveling then.” Niall concludes.

“YAAAAAAAAAY!” The kids celebrate. Thomas jumps on Gemma and Edward on Louis.

 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks them.

“My parents are coming, so we’re all having dinner together. Wanna join?” Niall suggests.

“Nah. Was gonna invite you guys to have dinner at ours. Cara and Sophiam are coming.”

“You still doing that?” Niall snorts, sipping from his beer.

Gemma and Harry are watching Disney movies with the kids. Eddie being excused from his punishment for a couple of hours.

“Doing what?” Louis frowns.

“Using couples names.”

“Mate, it’s way easier. Anne still calls you and Gems Nemma. I’m a genius.”

“So it’s okay if I call you and Harry  _ Larry? _ ”

“Niall, literally every single one of Harry’s fans calls us that.” He smiles. “I like couples names. Sue me.”

“You and Harry are so tacky. It’s a wonder you don’t have a couple’s facebook page.”

“We tried, for the official page, Harry’s management said no”, he shrugs. “And we don’t really use it if not for promo, so it seemed literally useless.”

Niall almost spits his beer laughing.

“I love you two so much, I swear to God.”

 

-

 

It’s their last night in England and their friends visit them. Liam and Sophia don’t bring the kids, and that makes Louis a little bit sad; he kind of wanted to see his godsons, but he and Harry will have to settle for two out of four on this trip.

Cara arrives late, as per usual, and brings her current girlfriend, Kristen, with her. They like the girl just fine, but much like Zayn’s conquests, they’ve learned not to get too attached to her partners.

 

“How’s Lolita?” Liam asks.

“Please, do not refer to my goddaughter as a romanticized abuse story, thank you very much…” Cara slaps Liam on the arm.

“What?” The footballer frowns.

“Before you go into a comprehensive and lengthy story about what a terrible book that is, which- agreed, let me just tell Lima Bean here that Lola is fine, perfect even, will show pictures later. Now go, Cara.” He laughs, and moves towards the living room, where Harry, Kristen and Sophia are setting up a game of scrabble. “You’re going to lose.” He warns them and sits by his husband’s side, passing him a glass of wine.

“Thanks, love.” Harry pecks his lips.

“I’m really good at this…” Sophia raises an eyebrow.

“And how many times have you won in the last… Seven and a half years, Sophia?” Harry teases.

“Two. But-”

“And why did you win?” He asks.

“Because you were very drunk.”

“Good. Now we may continue…”

 

Some nights seem endless, but in the best way possible. Tonight is one of those nights, in which the buzz of the wine makes Louis even more reminiscent, and being surrounded by his best friend makes him emotional. Cara and Liam join them in the living room after a while, and as the game goes on, Liam and Louis talk about everything and nothing.

In a very sudden, Liam way, the footballer mentions he is going to retire next year, and wants Louis to do the exclusive.

“Li, you’re thirty-three, why will you-”

“We’re about to have another baby, Lou. I can’t be gone all the time.”

“I get that. I mean- can you believe we all have these lives now? Everyone living for marriage and kids and- and we still manage to see each other and be like this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can. I mean, you were disbelieving, but Lou… This was how you and Harry were always going to turn out. And you inspired all of us.”

“Liam.”

“It’s not the wine, I swear.” He chuckles. “You two have a kind of love that makes people  _ believe _ love is forever, and it is out there for them. It’s funny how long it took you two to realize it, but in the grand scheme of things it was nothing.”

“I’mma cry if you continue.”

“Don’t.” Liam says. “Hey- I want you to have the exclusive; when I do retire.”

“It’s going to be my pleasure, Lima Bean. I’m extremely proud of you.”

He hugs Liam sideways and then winks at Harry. His husband chuckles and loses attention for a second, but not enough for Sophia to win. Kristen, though… She gives Harry a run for his money.

 

“Your girl is good.” He sits by Cara’s side when Liam gets up to get Soph some water.

“Yeah. Your boy is better.” She nudges his side. “Guess what I found the other day?”

“What?”

“Look…” She opens her phone and searches a few folders on Google Photos, and then… “Do you remember this?” The model asks.

It’s a very old picture of theirs. Louis has no idea of when it was taken.

“No?”

“It’s from the day I accepted Harry’s management offer.”

 

_ “Remind me why I’m doing this again?” Cara asked. She looked uncertain, and was pacing around Louis’ living room like a dog recognizing spaces. It was driving him mad. _

_ “Look, you don’t have to.” He sighed. _

_ “Just remind me, Lou.” _

_ “Because Harry is a good person. Because being closeted is hard as fuck and you know it.” _

_ “And?” _

_ “And because he deserves better than some idiotic model that’s going to use him.” He told her.  _

_ “I wanna help him. But why do you want me to do it?”She asks. _

_ “I just… I got a feeling in my gut.” He said. “This is going to be good.” _

_ “Alright, Tommo. But we’re getting drunk tonight.” _

 

_ Cara made the call and drunk they got. _

 

“Holy shit, I swear I don’t remember this.” He chuckles.

“Guess we have Tequila to blame for that.”

“For sure.”

“You know… Not many people get to say they have a picture of the day their lives changed forever.” Cara says. “You’re very, very lucky.”

“I am.” He looks at Harry. “In more ways than one.”

 

-

 

When they’ve said their goodbyes and everyone has gone their separate ways, Louis and Harry lay together in bed, staring at the ceiling. They look at each other at the same time, and then Louis asks him:

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Zayn’s going to kill us.” Harry murmurs back, but he’s already reaching for the iPad.

They might’ve broken the  _ one call a day  _ rule while here. Today, they’re calling for the first time.

_ “For the love of God, she’s all right. And she’s sleeping.”  _ Zayn picks up the call.

“Just let us see her.” Harry pleads.

Zayn sighs and turns the camera away. Louis can see him climbing up the stairs and slowly opening her bedroom door. Quietly, he makes his way to her bed and angles the camera so her fathers can see her face.

“Look at her!” Louis coos. “We miss you, baby…”

_ “She misses you too. Now let her sleep!” _ Aaaand he hangs up. This is  _ so _ Zayn.

Harry chuckles and lies flat on his back, bringing Louis with him. He rests his head on the actor’s chest and feels his heartbeats. Harry’s fingers run up and down his spine, and their breathings align in a matter of minutes.

“Hazz?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I miss home.” He says.

“I do too. We’ll see her in twenty-four hours.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Louis looks up and his husband kisses him goodnight one more time, and then another, and then another. They kiss until they are both lazy enough that their heads are heavy and their bodies unmoving.

Harry holds Louis’ hand and squeezes it one more time, before they both drift into nothingness.

 

-

 

Both Louis and Harry have learned many things throughout their lives, but when they finally get home and hold Lola for the first time in a week, both at the same time, together, they realize that the biggest lesson they’ve ever been taught is this: some people are all you need to know about love.

  
  


_ “Piece by piece I fell far from the tree _

_ I will never leave her like you left me _

_ And she will never have to wonder her worth _

_ Because unlike you I’m going to put her first and you know _

_ He’ll never walk away, _

_ He’ll never break her heart _

_ He’ll take care of things, he’ll love her _

_ Piece by piece, he restored my faith _

_ That a man can be kind and the father should be great.” _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [There are more stories to come still in 2017. Stay tuned.]
> 
> :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> HEY.  
> It's nice to be back! haha :)
> 
> You know the drill: please let me know I'm not screwing this plot up.  
> All the love in the world!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/ifmelcouldfly) | [tumblr](http://downgoesanotherhero.tumblr.com/)


End file.
